Kakera ni Tsukiakari
by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku
Summary: What if Luna had never given Usagi the henshin brooch? As Tokyo hums with rumors of the two new vigilantes Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen, Usagi wakes to unexplained cuts and bruises. To top it all off, her best friend Mamoru is getting suspicious... UM
1. Mukashi Mukashi

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A/N: Kon'wa, minna-san! This is Arashi-chan speaking, as she is the author of this chapter. I started this story while Jikkan-chan was in a tizzy about her finals, and finished it as she recovered from them, and so this chapter is _mine_. Tcha/grins/ **

**I thank Jikkan-chan for her beta-esque help all the same, and apologise for starting yet another story without finishing the half-complete chapter of _Aika no Tsuki_ (not to mention all the other fics on my Nimbirosa account). In spite of all this, _Aika _will be up in a few days. It's already half-finished, after all.**

**Now that everything's out of the way (goodness, I hate Author's Notes, which is why I make poor Jikkan-chan do them), on with the story!

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**Prologue – Mukashi Mukashi**

_**Once Upon a Time…**_

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_'__The rose gardens were like my heart; there were high walls keeping intruders at bay, and only my most beloved and trusted were allowed within. Every hedge, shrub, vine _–_ every blade of grass was cultivated by my own hand, and I guarded it jealously, for it was my sanctuary from the duties and obligations of the Crown Prince of the Golden Kingdom.__ Imagine my surprise, then, when on a particularly black day I entered and found beauty immeasurable and innocence incarnate examining everything with an air of quiet awe. Her name, though I did not know it at the time, was Serenity-hime of the Moon Kingdom. In that moment, she simply materialised in my heart, much as she appeared one day in those blessed gardens.__'_

– An excerpt from _Chikyuu no Ai_, The Memories of Neo-King Endymion

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* * *

Their first meeting was almost ethereal – it was full of quiet understanding and mutual sight. He was as numb as he was alone, before she came. She was golden and full of light that dimmed sympathetically as she saw him. _

He stared stonily at the wall, insides twisting and churning. He would go to the place for the kids with no parents in four or five days. An orphanage, he thought they called it. _Orphanage_. The word was guttural; ugly. _Will it be ugly there_? he wondered detachedly. The eight-year-old boy never noticed that his cheeks were wet until a tear dripped off his chin to splash angrily on his bare hand.

That was when the door opened silently, and a head of butter-gold curls peeked in, the joyful expression on the small face fading as the six-year-old girl watched him solemnly. He scrubbed angrily at his face, hating the almost painful pinching sensation across the bridge of his nose that heralded yet more tears.

The sudden light pressure on his knee alerted him of a small head resting there, lending him comfort. The pressure of tears in his chest eased, and then vanished. They sat in silence a little while, she offering him her light, he soaking it in furtively as the bone-deep ache began to recede.

"Daijoubu, Tanin-kun?" she asked, addressing him as 'stranger'. Sapphire eyes that weren't so hurt and angry anymore gazed steadily back at innocently concerned cerulean ones.

"Daijoubu," he answered quietly, the ache all gone and the numbness vanishing as blessed warmth took its place.

She'd been lost, looking for her mother's room, but decided that it could wait. She glanced pensively at the bouquet of roses she carried, and then at the boy, who had stubbornly turned his back on her. _Mama won't miss just _one _flower,_ she decided. Picking the freshest, prettiest bloom, the only one with unbruised petals, she drew it out carefully and, with typical six-year-old pomp, dethorned it.

He started when a perfect red rose, dew still glistening on its petals, was thrust directly in front of his nose. "Eh!"

"It's for you," she said somewhat unnecessarily. "When Mama's feeling unhappy, I pick some flowers and give them to her. She always feels better after that."

He wrinkled his nose. "Sounds a little hard on the flowers to me."

She grinned widely up at him, not understanding. Unable to fortify the walls around his heart any longer, he opened the gates and handed her the keys.

She seemed to perk up visibly at his returning smile, and the rose fluttered even closer to his face. When he reached up to take it, their fingers brushed, and sparks of golden-silver and silvery-gold merged together, swimming through the stem and taking up residence in the bloom, immortalising it.

Neither child noticed, because her fingers had left the flower and he had set it aside as they laughed together at her clumsy attempts to climb the hospital bed. He quickly relented at a soulful look and reached out his hand, which she took. The sparks flickered again, and she blinked, startled, before he hauled her up beside him.

It was after they'd exhausted themselves playing, bouncing lightly on his bed as they fought dragons and defeated sorcerers, their laughter keeping the silence at bay.

"I'm Usagi," she told him. His slow, beautiful smile lit up the room as he placed a name to his angel's face.

"I'm Mamoru," he replied.

The blonde hugged him without warning, and he froze in shock. "Iie," she said, her voice muffled in the rough material of his hospital gown. "You are Mamo-chan."

One could feel their heartbeats in the following quiet. Slowly, slowly, he brought his arms around her in a silent embrace, returning the hug. "Then you are Tenshi." _My angel_.

The silence was full of understanding, and no words needed to be said.

They pulled away from each other as faint shouting was heard outside the room. Mamoru looked at Usagi to see a faintly chagrined look on her face. "Nani?"

"Oh, that's my 'tousan. Daddy's probably wondering where I got to," she replied airily even as she scrambled off the side of the bed. Mamoru's grin vanished instantly.

"Do you have to go?" he asked miserably.

Usagi's own smile seemed dimmer than usual. "Hai… I came here to visit my Mama – she's having a baby. The roses are for her and Shingo."

"The baby?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Usagi hummed an affirmative, straightening her wrinkled blouse and skirt. Bright eyes looked up into now-miserable ones, and she seemed to think for a moment. "Would you like to come see him?"

Mamoru's ecstatic grin was all the answer she needed, and he clambered down next to her before they exited the hallway and walked bumped directly into a wild-eyed man and a harried-looking nurse.

Usagi ran to the man. "Papa!" she cried, clinging to his leg.

The nurse sighed in relief. "Tsukino-san, would that be your daughter?" she asked.

The man looked up, apology in his eyes. "Hai, it would be. Where have you been, you bad girl?" he scolded, lifting her up in his arms.

"With Mamo-chan!" she beamed, giving her father a smacking kiss on the cheek before squirming to be let down. That was when the nurse spotted Mamoru.

"Mamoru-kun, why are you out of your room?" she asked, surprise evident in her tone.

Mamoru shrugged, sullen now that he was sure he would not be allowed to see Shingo with Usagi. "Tensh – Usagi-chan said I could come see her brother, Nasake-san."

Nasake, the nurse, looked calculatingly from Usagi's pleading eyes to Mamoru's sulky countenance. '_Perhaps it will be good for him,_' she thought hopefully. "Is that okay with you, Tsukino-san?"

Kenji – Usagi's father – looked warily at Mamoru, but relented upon Usagi's tiny fists beating against his chest, along with her begging expression. "Hai, that's fine. Come along… Mamoru, was it?"

"Hai, Tsukino-san," he answered politely, his unhappy demeanour melting away. He and Usagi exchanged giddy grins, and she succeeded in wriggling out of her father's arms, joining Mamoru on proper ground level.

Nasake ruffled Mamoru's hair with a smile, watching as he in turn tried to mess up Usagi's unique hairdo – a pair of perfectly round buns with short ponytails streaming from them. "Tsukino-mama is in room 278," she told the playful duo. "Don't make too much noise?"

As they giggled together, running down the hall before disappearing behind a corner, Nurse Nasake exchanged wry glances at Tsukino Kenji.

"She's going to be a heartbreaker when she grows up," the lilac-haired nurse remarked with a smile. Kenji let out a tortured-sounding groan.

"Don't I know it!" he sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I swear, I'm going to buy a shotgun when she turns ten or something…"

"I don't think it'll make too much of an impression, really," Nasake shrugged as she and Kenji followed the faint sound of laughter. "Young Mamoru there is obviously quite taken with her."

Kenji made a strangled noise that sounded much like a cat being stepped on.

The nurse resisted the urge to roll her eyes as they moved to the side, allowing a wheelchair-bound patient to pass. "Tsukino-san, my point is that if she could get through Mamoru's walls, she should be able to get through just about anyone's. Do calm yourself down; I would be fired if I caused a healthy visitor to have a heart attack."

"Why Mamoru?" he asked simply, choosing to ignore her latter remark.

"Why Mamoru…" she drew out the young boy's name thoughtfully before shaking her head. "His case is quite the tragic one. Orphaned in a motor accident. No one knows exactly how the car came to skid off the highway – later tests proved that both parents were perfectly sober."

Kenji's face was unreadable. "Doesn't the boy know? Or was he sleeping while it happened?"

"Iie, that's what makes it even worse." Nasake paused to get her thoughts together, and shook her head in chagrin when she realised that they had passed the next turn.

"What could possibly be worse than being orphaned? He has relatives, surely? Someone who will be there for him?"

Nurse Nasake glanced at the older man out of the corner of her eye. "Complete amnesia. No knowledge of his name or roots, no understanding of how he came to be here and no one to help him through this time. One would say, perhaps, that no memories were better, so that he could start out fresh."

"I'd disagree," Kenji sighed as they paused outside the ward door, mind whirring. '_He has no one…_' "Memories would give him closure, to say the least."

"That they would," Nasake looked hard at the frowning man next to her. "Would you do me a favour, Tsukino-san?"

"I make no promises, but if I may in good conscience grant it, I shall," he responded warily.

Nasake gestured at the door leading to the ward that Kenji's post-natal wife. "Please allow Mamoru-kun and your Usagi to keep in touch. She's the first one he's let in since his accident, and if you'd seen just how _cold_ he was… you'd understand."

Kenji was silent for a moment before a reluctant smile broke out on his face. He grinned boyishly at her. "Considering the hand he's been dealt, I guess I'll let him near Usagi-chan," he chuckled slightly. "I'll have to lay down the law with him, though: looking only, _no touching_."

Nasake's lips curved into a grateful smile. "Domo arigatou, Tsukino-san. The world needs more men like you in it."

"Iie, do itamashite," he replied, his cheeks warming a little. The blush disappeared as he scowled abruptly. "I'm still buying that shotgun, though."

* * *

"He's so small," Mamoru said wonderingly as he took in the little red face, the damp wisps of light hair and the tightly-shut eyes. He poked a finger lightly at one of Shingo's balled fists, and to his surprise and secret delight, the tiny hand unclenched before closing back around Mamoru's finger, which seemed large by comparison. 

"He's very ugly, all wrinkly and red," Usagi stated flatly as she looked over at the baby. "Mama, these are for you," she said somewhat belatedly as the indigo-haired young mother smiled tiredly at her exuberant daughter, accepting the bouquet of battered red roses.

"Domo, Usagi-chan," Tsukino Ikuko murmured. She cradled baby Shingo closer to her chest. "And Shingo will grow up to be a handsome boy, ne?" she addressed the slumbering baby.

"I don't know… was I that ugly when I was born?" Usagi scrunched her face up in thought, but a quick squeeze from Mamoru's hand had her relaxing, blinking questioningly at him.

"I can't see you being ugly, T – Usagi-chan," he said matter-of-factly even as he stared, fascinated at the newborn.

Usagi rolled her eyes. "That's because you haven't seen me when I'm ugly."

Mamoru turned from Shingo, his brows furrowing uncomprehendingly. "Ano… Usa, you're not making any sense."

"No, _you _aren't…" Usagi began to argue, her face pinking.

"Children –" Ikuko began exhaustedly.

"Sumimasen, Tsukino-san," Mamoru apologised hastily.

"Mama, can Mamo-chan come over to play?" Usagi asked, remembering.

"I'm sure he can, sweetheart, but you should ask your father first," Ikuko closed her eyes momentarily before opening them again. "Mamoru-kun, would you like to hold Shingo? He's sleeping, so he shouldn't give you any fuss."

Mamoru's eyes widened. "Iie, I don't think so Tsukino-san, I might drop him –"

Ikuko smiled kindly. "Come and sit down; you won't drop him unless you shove him off your lap that way."

Mamoru obeyed dumbly, his arms reaching out hesitantly for the sleeping newborn. Usagi watched silently, crystal-blue eyes bright as her new friend cradled her new brother in his lap, supporting Shingo's head in the crook of his elbow. Usagi scrambled over to look a little more closely at Shingo, gently tracing the curve of his cheek with a finger. "I've changed my mind," she said suddenly. "He's not ugly, and I like him very much."

Mamoru gave her a wry, sideward glance. "That's because he's your brother, silly."

Silver-blonde eyebrows furrowed. "I know that, Mamo-chan."

The dark-haired boy sighed and looked back down at the little bundle sitting on his lap. His breath hitched as sleepy blue eyes gazed steadily back at him. Shingo squirmed lightly, yawned, and settled back into a deeper sleep.

Mamoru's smile was almost painful, it was so large. "Tenshi-chan! Did you see that?"

"Hai, Mamo-chan. Shingo likes you! You can be his big brother, and I can be his big sister, and –"

"Usagi-chan, please," Kenji laughed softly as he closed the door quietly behind him. His dark eyes were tender as he pressed a warm kiss to his wife's forehead. "How are you, koishii?"

"Better now that you're here," Ikuko smiled coyly.

Kenji rolled his eyes. "How cliché," he muttered, stifling a grin. He spotted Mamoru holding Shingo. "Mamoru-kun, would you mind if I took my son for a while?"

"Iie, he's _your_ son, Tsukino-san," Mamoru kept carefully still as Kenji retrieved the baby from his lap.

Usagi, however, bounced over to Mamoru and gave him a hug. "Don't worry, Mamo-chan! You can hold him again when you come over to play!" She turned to her father, who raised a questioning brow. "Papa, can Mamo-chan come over today?"

Kenji shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't see why he shouldn't be able to come over – we'll have to speak to the orphanage, of course. Not today though, sweetheart."

Usagi sulked, but Mamoru felt light. He'd see her again! He'd be able to hold her baby brother, and maybe, just maybe, the loneliness would leave him for good.

Later, when Nurse Nasake had escorted her young charge back to his room, she watched him pick up a rose. Its petals were unbruised, the bloom a flawless one. He inhaled its delicate scent, and Nasake offered to bring him a little vase where he could keep it in water.

She would never forget the half-thoughtful, half-amused way he gazed up at her through his lashes as he politely declined.

"Iie, Nasake-san… I don't think it will need that."

At his words, somehow unseen, the flower shuddered and opened just a little further before freezing in a flash of silver and gold.

_And so it began_.

* * *

_She was eight and attempting to build a sandcastle for her two-year-old brother when a pair of bullies her age stomped it cheerfully, kicking sand into Shingo's eyes. Furious, she rose to defend him but was swatted down by the larger boys. A sudden shadow cast over the bullies was the only warning they had before an enraged Mamoru grabbed both their collars and threw them bodily out of the playground sandbox. _

_He would have done more, but a slight whimper from Usagi calmed him. Shooting a dirty look at the cowering boys, he sighed, dragged his schoolbag over from the bench he'd been sitting at and did his homework in the sand instead, eyes flitting up every so often to warn off any potential threats to his charges.

* * *

_

_He was twelve and Tsukino Kenji took him aside quietly, ignoring his wife's wink and his daughter's questioning glance. _

"_Mamoru-kun, you've become a brother, a son and a friend to we Tsukinos, and it's past time I asked you if you would like to be part of our family officially?" Mamoru thought for a moment, digesting Kenji's words before he grinned._

"_Really? Away from the orphanage? With you?" The dark-haired boy glowed before his eyes drifted towards Usagi, who was reading a manga on some kind of half-demon and a schoolgirl. His face sobered abruptly. "I don't know… I wouldn't want to impose –" _

"_Mamoru, you have never imposed, and I understand this is quite a decision for you to make."_

_Mamoru squared his shoulders and smiled at Kenji. "Iie, I think I know how to reply."_

"_You will, then?" _

"_Ano… iie, actually. I never knew you would tolerate me so much so as to actually adopt me, but… I think it is better this way." _

_Kenji watched how Mamoru's eyes never left his daughter and thought of the brand new shotgun he had bought only the day before. The Tsukino patriarch fought with himself for a moment before a large smile spread across his face. He clapped the boy he thought of as a son on the back and turned to leave. "Mamoru-kun, you may change your mind whenever you like, but the decision is all yours."_

_Ikuko embraced her husband as he told her about the twelve-year-old's decision and how the sapphire eyes never wavered from their daughter. She thought fondly of how maybe, just maybe in later years that Mamoru would be a more permanent part of their family after all.

* * *

_

_She was twelve and starry-eyed over her first real crush. Mamoru gritted his teeth and manfully restrained himself from going out and pounding this ''Toki-kun'. He was sick and tired of hearing about 'Toki-this and 'Toki-that; it made a nauseous feeling well up somewhere in his stomach region. When he finally met the cheerful, grinning, good-looking son of the Crown Arcade owner, he shot one glance at her genuinely happy face, and although he had always taken great pleasure in her joy, something clenched in his chest and he had to look away._

_He withdrew from her, growing increasingly cold and snappish, until one day a fortnight later she confronted him. He would never forget the words she spoke that day, nor the promise marked by the thin scars on both their right hands. _

"_Mamo-chan… no matter what, you're always the best guy."_

"_Even better than Motoki?"_

"_Of course! Besides, he has this crush on Reika – she's very pretty…"_

"_You're prettier. And what if you get a boyfriend? _He _won't like being told he's second-best."_

"_Somehow I don't think that's going to be a problem, Mamo-chan." _

"'_Somehow' just doesn't cut it!" Then, more quietly, "Tenshi-chan…"_

"_It'll have to do for now." A sharp intake of breath and a pair of dark sapphire eyes met crystal blue. _

"_What are you _doing_?" _

"_There's no promise stronger than blood." She handed him the tiny, carved ornamental blade he had found in a thrift shop and given to her for her twelfth birthday. She always wore it on a silver chain around her neck, and she had just used it to slash open her palm._

_He raised his stricken gaze to her calm one. "Tenshi-chan!"_

"_Mamo-chan. I promise."_

"_Then I will as well. It's only fair." He took the knife from her and blood splashed down his fingers, too. Clasping hands and ignoring the pain, a sudden flash of silver and gold blinded them momentarily._

_Their skin was unmarred, and only the fact that both hands were still wet with blood indicated that there had ever been a wound. That and the thin scars running through the head, heart, life and destiny lines of their palms._

_Somehow, they didn't seem to find this very frightening. Somehow, it felt familiar, but they never spoke of it again. Somehow, he felt that the promise was tainted simply because they had used her blood. The fact that she would go to such measures to reassure him that she cared brought him both fierce joy and pained guilt. He never really did understand his emotions around her.

* * *

_

_He was sixteen, and on his first date. Usagi had sulked all afternoon and most of the evening. Despite her mute disapproval, she did her best to help him get ready. He had protested laughingly that he could dress himself, and they played a short game of grab when she stole his new cologne – cologne that _she'd _bought for his last birthday – and refused to return it._

"_You smell much nicer naturally," was her only explanation, and he flushed before she finally relented and allowed him to take the small bottle from her. _

"_Oh? And what do I smell like?" She looked thoughtfully up at him, he being over a head and a half taller than her five foot frame. "Well?"_

"_Fire," she finally answered. She stepped closer and hugged him, eyes closing as she inhaled deeply. "Sky."_

_He blinked, unsure of how to take this. "Fire and sky?"_

"_Fire and sky," she affirmed, "and summer breezes."_

_He stared at her for a moment before barking out a laugh. "I don't know how I'd have turned out if I'd never met you, but it can't be good."_

_She grinned at the compliment, snuggling further into his worn leather jacket. For a moment, he wondered just why he was preparing to go on a movie date with a girl he had no real interest in; he couldn't even remember her last name, or the colour of her eyes. Come to think of it, he couldn't quite fix the image of the girl in his head, and her first name eluded him, too. Usagi kept appearing, and every time she did, his lips moved silently. _Tenshi_, they would mouth, and he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood._

_Shaking his head forcibly, he rested his chin directly between the two round buns adorning her head, even eight years after their first meeting, and ten since their creation. _

"_Well, what about me?"_

_He grinned down at her. "What about you?" He winced as she ground her slipper-clad foot painfully onto his newly-polished boots. "Itai!"_

"_Serves you right. What about me?"_

_He inhaled deeply then, simply because he could, and felt his lips turn upwards into a broad smile. "Wildflowers." He held her just a little tighter. "Spring nights. Light."_

"_Don't be silly – you can't smell light," she scrunched her face up lightly, drawing back slightly from his hug. _

_He couldn't resist. "Iie – I can smell you."_

_She had to laugh. "Corny. Real corny, Mamo-kun." His heart twinged painfully. The suffix '-kun' had been added to his name after their first, and only remotely large fight. He supposed it wasn't so bad, considering '-chan' implied he was little and…cute. Still, it hurt that she would change his childhood nickname due to something stupid he'd done. She, on the other hand, had always been 'Tenshi' to him. The week-long period they had ignored each other were the darkest seven eternities he had ever faced._

_He saw her expectant face and remembered what she'd said, responding belatedly. "And don't you forget it," he forced a grin, checking his reflection in the mirror one last time before going to get his keys. When Usagi brushed up against him as they jostled each other to get through the door first, she sniffed lightly and then smiled. He hadn't used the cologne.

* * *

_

_Neither could pinpoint when it had happened, only how it did, and that she was nearly sixteen, and he almost eighteen. Mamo-kun again became Mamo-chan, and Tenshi-chan became Tenshi-ko. _

_It had been a mere slip of the tongue, really. He was tickling her mercilessly on the carpeted floor of his new apartment, and she gasped for air between shrieks of laughter. "Mamo-chan, _matte_, onegai…"_

_So startled he had been, he paused momentarily before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, feeling as if everything had fallen back into place. "As you wish, Tenshiko."_

_She had smiled, and his cheeks had warmed, but neither took back their words.

* * *

_

It had been ten years, yet their friendship persisted and persevered. She was sixteen, and a sophomore in high school. He was eighteen and a senior at the same public school she went to despite his newly-discovered inheritance, which meant he could go to the more prestigious institute. Despite her protests, he had stuck stubbornly to his decision, re-enrolled at Moto Azabu, and instead used his own savings to buy the black and chrome motorcycle he had been ogling since his thirteenth birthday.

"_What about the Ferrari?" she'd asked curiously, referring to his pride and joy, the car he had bought off a second-hand dealer before restoring it himself._

"_The Ferrari stays," he'd responded amusedly. "It's a great chick-magnet, after all."_

_Usagi had slapped him upside the head for that. "Why would you need a 'chick-magnet' when you've got me?"_

"_By 'chick', I meant a girl who finds me attractive and doesn't pop up as my girlfriend attempts to give me my first kiss."_

"_Yeah, about that – you're pretty pathetic. Eighteen and never been kissed."_

"_You're just as pathetic as I am; you haven't even had a boyfriend yet."_

"_Only because you've scared them all away."_

"_None of them were good enough for you."_

_A short pause. "How exactly did we start from talking about cars to complimenting me?"_

"_Would you prefer I insulted you?"_

"_Iie, iie," she said hastily. "Compliment away."_

And through it all, the rose that she had given him a decade ago was kept in a simple crystal vase, its fragrance and beauty immortal, dew still frozen on the half-open bloom. The areas where she had removed the thorns had healed over, leaving an unmarked, surprisingly tough, dark green stem.

Both Mamoru and Usagi never questioned this, just as they had not wondered further about the blood-promise ritual. Some things simply were, they knew, and the rose and the promise would stay so.

_And so it was, and so it remained._

_Until one day…_

_

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_**_kakera ni tsukiakari—_'broken pieces/splinters in the moonlight'**

**_mukashi mukashi_—'once upon a time'. Literally, _'long ago'_. A traditional beginning to tales.**

**_tanin_—'another person; an unrelated person; an outsider; a stranger'. (Begins with the same kanji as Chiba and can be read as 'earth person', which amuses Jikkan-chan immensely.)**

**_tenshi_—'angel'**

**_sumimasen_—'please excuse my behaviour/actions'.**

**_Nasake_****—'compassion, sympathy, understanding.'****

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**


	2. Mishou ga Osoreru

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A/N: Kon'wa! Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku is _back! _/laughs/ This is Arashi-chan, and she is completely high from too much sugar, as well as an uncommonly good night's sleep. She'd like to tell you that her _Paladin of Serenity_ will be uploaded in a few days, and begs you to review A-J's _Aika no Tsuki_ and Nimbirosa's _Soul of Thunder, Heart of Flame_. Arashi-chan is not yet tired of referring to herself in the third person, but she would like to be the first to thank Jikkan-chan firmly and loudly for being such the awesomest big-sister and cowriter. **

**Now that her customary plugging and gooey sentiments are over, she'd like to say that chapter is dedicated to EightofSwords, whom both Arashi and Jikkan adore, and the indescribably _gorgeous_ review she left them! It had them smiling for hours, Swords-chan! As usual, the glossary for Jap-Eng words is at the bottom of the page, so go there if anything confuses you. **

**And now, Kakera ni Tsukiakari!

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**I – Mishou ga Osoreru**

_**To Fear the Unknown

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**_

'_To be a Senshi must be a Senshi's first love, because duty comes before all else._'

– The Senshi Code, paragraph two, line four.

* * *

The black feline snarled viciously as she was backed into a corner, garnet eyes glinting. Her harassers all bore signs of her sharp claws, but this gave her little satisfaction, as it had not deterred them very much. When one of them picked her up, swearing as streaks of angry red blossomed on his hands and fingers, another approached with something white in his hands before all became blank fear and the instinct to run. 

There were angry yells after that, a girl's voice. Snide-sounding retorts by her tormentors were issued, and then a pained yelp before a new, deeper voice roared something furiously. Then, the head of a young girl appeared in the cat's vision, pretty face furrowed in concentration. The feline felt the fur on her forehead tugged at gently before the two bandaids concealing her crescent moon insignia were gently removed.

With it uncovered, Luna began once more to comprehend the words and events happening about her.

"…how _dare _they hit a girl?" a tall, dark-haired young man was saying furiously as he pulled down the collar of the squirming girl's blouse to inspect several red marks marring the pale skin of his companion's shoulder. "Don't be so reckless next time, Tenshiko, this is going to bruise pretty badly –"

"No lasting damage, Mamo-chan!" she laughed airily before flinching as his fingers probed a particularly painful spot. "Itai! I'm _fine_; it'll go away soon –"

"Just don't run so far ahead next time, and _don't_ duck into dark alleys to save cats at the cost of your own personal harm!" he snapped.

"As if _you_ wouldn't do the same." 'Tenshiko' folded her arms and looked up at him reprovingly. "You're such a bloody hypocrite, Mamo-chan…"

'Mamo-chan' coloured slightly before exasperation entered his eyes. "That's beside the point!"

"Oh, I think it's _very much_ the point –"

Luna sweatdropped as the two bickered good-naturedly. She'd thought they were lovers at first, the way deep affection resided in their gazes, not to mention the nicknames. '_Do all Terrans express love this way?_' the black feline wondered. She would have thanked the girl and apologised for her getting hurt on Luna's account, but remembered with irritation that Terran felines did not speak. Settling for twining herself about the humans' legs, she purred briefly in thanks before bounding out of the alley.

Luna spared a thought for the powerful energy signatures both 'Tenshiko' and 'Mamo-chan' possessed, but shook her head. Although she would have loved to have someone so strong as a senshi, something told the black feline that the golden-haired girl was never meant to be one.

"She's probably given her heart away already," Luna concluded regretfully. There was a reason why girls destined to be senshi in the Silver Millennium had been trained from a young age. The older they were, the more likely the attachment to something they would have to give up.

Putting her rescuers out of her mind, Luna turned her mind to other matters. '_Now, how shall I go about this?_'

* * *

Motoki looked up and grinned cheerfully as his two favourite customers entered the arcade, Usagi stomping along childishly and Mamoru's eyes turned skywards as if requesting patience. As they neared the counter, the blond was able to pick up bits and pieces of their hissed conversation. 

"… swear… hunt down …saw… grabbed you –" Mamoru was saying, his expression darkening.

"…worry too much … everything under control…" Usagi's face was set stubbornly, and Mamoru rounded on her.

"…didn't look that way… those bruises… hurt…" Motoki blinked in alarm and leaned forwards. Just _who_ had to guts to attack Usagi within ten thousand miles of Mamoru, who was famous for his almost obsessive desire to shield his best friend from any kind of harm?

"…baka… fine… without help…" Mamoru looked about to argue that point when Motoki interrupted their spat.

"Kon'wa," the arcade manager sang as he pasted on his biggest smile in spite of knowing that it would irritate the two further considering the mood they were in. "The usual, Usagi-chan, Mamoru-kun?" He'd get all the details out of them later, he knew. They always came to complain to him whenever the other was being a little argumentive, and often moped about his place whenever they got into the tiniest of fights.

"Hai," Usagi responded belatedly as she broke the staring match with her best friend to look at Motoki. Mamoru grinned, taking an almost childish delight at Usagi looking away first. The sixteen-year-old blonde looked mock-scathingly at her dark-haired companion before placing her usual order. "The usual sundae, please, and Mamoru's paying for it."

"Nani?" the grin was wiped right off the dark-haired senior's face, almost immediately replaced with a scowl. "Tenshiko –" he complained.

"Mamo-chan," she mimicked his whine.

"Tenshiko…"

"Mamo-chan…"

"Tenshiko…"

"Mamo-chan…"

"Tensh – ack, I give!" Mamoru grumbled. "Black coffee –"

"As usual," Motoki finished, turning to fix both their orders. Usagi hopped off her stool and hugged Mamoru from behind, eyes adoring.

"I'll pay you back later," she promised.

Mamoru shook his head and smiled at the arms knotted around his waist from behind. "Iie, it's only a sundae. Keep your money – remember why we came here in the first place? There's a Sailor V game out, ne? I'll call you back for your ice cream when you're done."

Her eyes lit up and she bounced off to the token dispenser. Mamoru chuckled softly and pulled out his advanced Biology text, accepting the cup of unsweetened coffee Motoki slid over to him with a murmur of thanks.

Such is a day in the life, Motoki reflected with a grin, drizzling hot chocolate syrup over Usagi's sundae and covering it with a _tad_ more chocolate sprinkles than the other customers got. Hey, he was the arcade manager and his Da was the owner; what was the fun in running this place if you couldn't favour a couple of the customers?

Usagi had just finished feeding the dispenser and was settling down to give the V game its first taste of the Wrath of Tenshiko when Osaka Naru found her. "Mou, I should've known I'd find you here," the slightly-taller redhead said with a good-natured pout. "Did you forget our shopping date today?"

The blonde put her hand over her mouth. "Aa! Gomen ne, Naru-chan! I was on my way to meet you, but then I ran into Mamo-chan and —"

"— promptly forgot all about your best _girl_ friend, as always," Naru said knowingly. "Honestly, Usagi! Just date the boy and put every woman in Juuban out of her misery."

Usagi rolled her eyes. "There you go again! What _is_ it with you and teasing me about Mamo-chan? You know we're not like that…"

"Hai, hai," her friend retorted, rolling her eyes right back. "Don't listen to the girl who's known you since second grade — of course _she_ doesn't know anything."

"I'll listen to you when you start talking sense," Usagi grumbled, and reached for her purse to put the tokens away. "Oh no!"

"What is it?"

Usagi looked up from her purse to give her an embarrassed look. "I didn't put my allowance in here and I just spent the leftover from last month on tokens!"

Naru shook her head, but smiled. "Mou, Usagi, aren't you forgetting? This is to pay you back for helping me when _I_ was all outturned pockets and light purses last week! Now come on, Mama's got a super sale on — and if I'm going to buy you anything, I want the advantage of a family discount," she teased.

"You're gonna need it," her friend said, sticking her tongue out playfully. "Hold on a sec — I need to go tell Mamo-chan I'm off to spend you blind."

Usagi skipped over to the counter and hopped onto a neighbouring stool. "You're going to laugh at me," she warned her very best friend in all the world.

"And why would I do that?" Mamoru wondered, marking his place and setting the book aside — but his eyes were already twinkling. "I was just about to call you over; your sundae's ready."

"Eat it so it won't go to waste, Mamo-chan," she said, taking the sundae from Motoki with a grateful smile and pushing it into the dark-haired eighteen-year-old's hands.

He blinked. "Tenshiko, you've never refused chocolate in your life. Are you sick?" He bent to feel her forehead, but she laughed, ducking away from his hand.

"Iie, iie! I just forgot that today I was supposed to go shopping with Naru-chan."

"So now I have to clean up your mess because you forgot a promise?" He attempted to look put-upon. "The things I do for you, Tenshiko."

"Oh yes, you poor thing, you have to eat my ice-cream. Truly heaven must weep for you," she grinned up at him.

"It always _starts_ easy," he contested. "First it's 'eat my ice-cream, Mamo-chan!' But I know you — then it'll be 'clean my room, Mamo-chan!' 'Hide this body, Mamo-chan!' 'Wrestle this bear, Mamo-chan!'"

"If you're quite finished with your little lover's spat?" Naru inquired archly, trying and failing to hold back the grin.

"Hai, hai, coming," Usagi nodded, breathless with laughter. "I'll see you later, Mamo-chan — I promise I'll try not to upset any bears."

"See that you do," he nodded back, face almost perfectly serious. "Kiotsukete, Tenshiko."

"You too, Mamo-chan," she called over her shoulder as Naru took her by the wrist and began to pull her out of the building. Ja ne, Motoki-san, Unazuki-chan! Bai bai!"

"…You didn't have to _drag_, Naru-chan," Usagi observed, pulling her wrist out of Naru's grasp as they walked down the block to the OSA-P. "Just because I was being polite —"

"Hai, you were supposed to be being _polite_, not making a goodbye for the ages. C'mon, Usagi! Mama's store is a _madhouse_, and if you're slow, we'll miss the good stuff!"

"Really? That full? I thought your mother never had sales?"

"Generally not, but today she just started running around and putting up signs.. I hope the crowd of buyers makes up for the profit loss — gah!"

Usagi hurried up behind her. "Ne? What is it, Naru-chan…? Kami! Is it even safe for that many people to be in one building?"

"No, probably not," Naru grinned over her shoulder. "But at least we'll get a better family discount this way!" They ploughed into the store.

For as long as Usagi had known Naru, the OSA-P had been a calm, quiet place; a retreat of quiet elegance and gentility that had always seemed to be at a remove from the normal hustle-bustle energy of Juuban.

She barely recognised it now.

Gaudy orange and purple signs were everywhere, blocking out the windows and obscuring the tasteful prints; what seemed like a hundred women crowded around every display, their pushing, shoving, shrieking and gossiping drowning out the carefully-chosen classical music —

— and calm, poised Osaka Hariko, the most composed and elegant woman Usagi had ever met, was leaping about with a megaphone, her hair falling out of its careful coif, exhorting the crowd to new madness.

"Today only, ladies! OSA-P's special blowout! Thirty, forty, _fifty_ percent off on selected earrings! Sixty percent off on all necklaces! _Seventy_ percent off on diamond rings! Make your claims while you can, ladies, because soon it'll be all over!"

"_Seventy_?" Naru hissed into Usagi's ear. "Even if she sold every jewel and setting in the store we wouldn't make a profit at that rate! These are _clearance_ prices — but she'd have told me if she were closing the store —"

Usagi opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she might have said was doomed to be lost forever as she and Naru found their shoulders caught in a bruising grip.

"Hello, girls!" Hariko-san smiled brilliantly, not seeming to notice their expressions of pain. "I see you brought your little friend with you, Naru-chan — you're such a considerate daughter, bringing customers to our door." The gleaming regard turned to Usagi, who swallowed hard and wished frantically that she were back at the arcade, peacefully splitting that sundae with Mamo-chan. "Usagi-chan, isn't it? How _nice_ to see you, you're always so full of … energy."

"K — konnichiwa, Osaka-san," she said softly.

Hariko kept beaming. "Now you girls go off and pick out something nice — I particularly recommend the tennis bracelets! Sixty percent off for the lucky ones!" She released the girls and started cheerleading again, just as if she had never been interrupted.

"Itai," Usagi hissed, gently rubbing a shoulder with a rueful expression on her face. '_Did she have to get the _already_ bruised one? Mamo-chan's going to throw a fit, and he really can't afford to get in trouble for threatening an adult…_'

"Gomen ne, Usagi," Naru said worriedly, rubbing her own shoulder. "She's _never_ acted like this before, I don't understand…"

"Ne, it's okay," her blonde friend said, shaking her head. "It's not your fault what your mom might do. Let's do what we came for instead of worrying about it, ne? I need a new watch."

"I guess so," the younger Osaka agreed reluctantly, and they wormed their way through the crowd toward the display.

Naru had her by the wrist again, and Usagi followed dutifully, but somehow her heart wasn't in it; she was preoccupied by a little voice screaming in her head. Something was _wrong,_ terribly wrong, and someone needed to realise, needed to _fix_ it before —

Someone screamed.

"_Yuriko! Yuriko, what's wrong, get up! Why won't she get up?_"

More screams followed, and then a girl near them collapsed —

— and then a rotund fifty-something woman in a too-tight red dress —

— and then a young mother, her baby in its carrier squalling fearfully for a moment before going suddenly silent —

— and more, and more, and more, until the floor was covered in bodies.

"Well," said Osaka-san in a voice not her own. "I would never have expected it to come to a crescendo so quickly. …How marvellous."

Naru's voice was a croak. "M-Mama…?"

_No_, Usagi wanted to hiss, _don't speak, don't draw attention to us_, but it was already too late. The woman had turned toward them.

Her face was a dark, twisted caricature of Hariko-san's, as if someone had starved her and twisted her and possibly even set her on fire. It smiled a terrible smile.

"Oh," said the person who was not Osaka-san. "Guests."

The grin widened. Its teeth were very, very sharp. "So sad that you missed the party. But don't worry, girls —" it flicked its wrists, and Hariko-san's careful manicure was replaced by foot-long claws. "— I'm sure we can find room for you."

'_We're going to die,_' Usagi realised detachedly, as if her body was present but theUsagi that lived behind her eyes was somewhere very far away, watching as the monster advanced, slowly. '_Naru-chan and I are going to be killed by something living in Osaka-san's body._'

She should be scared.

She was quite sure she should be scared, but, somehow… All she could manage was a terrible sadness.

'_Mamo-chan…_'

The thought seemed to galvanise her; her body snapped taut, eyes hard, and grabbed Naru by the arm, shoving her towards the door.

"Usagi, what —"

"Get help!" her body was yelling. "The police, a priest, Mamo-chan — somebody! _Anybody!_"

She thrust Naru out with one hand, already fumbling with the lock with the other. The monster was hissing something, and Usagi's movements became even more desperate.

"But I can't leave you —"

"Go!" that other Usagi ordered harshly. "_Now!_"

The door slammed, the lock made a decisive _click_ as she turned it, and the last she knew was a great light —

And then, nothing.

* * *

It came on him suddenly and the spoon he was holding clattered to the counter, ice cream and chocolate dripping everywhere. 

"Mamoru-kun?"

His head was buzzing faintly, and everything was numb and he couldn't _feel_ anything save his steady, accelerating heartbeat as well as another's, almost frenzied in its pace.

"_Mamoru-kun_!" Someone was calling his name, but he ignored them, ignored all but the sudden, almost vicious pull that caused him to stumble clumsily out into glaring sunlight and into a nearby alley. The tug was fiercer now, and suddenly he couldn't distinguish his pulse from the foreign one, both hearts beating in sync as a muted golden light emanated from his hunched form.

A strangely familiar rose materialised in front of him, petals sparking gold and silver as thorns that had not been present for ten years sprouted but that couldn't be right because roses were roses were roses were roses…

Armour encased his tall form, a sword at his hip and a black cape lined with red pinned at his shoulders.

Suddenly, it melted into a tuxedo, a white domino mask concealing his glazed eyes even as he felt the weight of some kind of hat against his hair.

The tuxedo hardened into black plate armour once more, before softening back into crisp black cloth and then back to the armour as the rose spun faster and faster and faster and he cried out in agony as War and Stealth clashed and battled in his mind – "_Tenshiko!_"

_Tuxedo._

_Armour._

_Tuxedo._

_Armour._

_**Protect her.**_

_Tuxedo._

Gloved fingers snatched the rose from the air –

_Tuxedo._

**_Protect her with your _life_. Kill for her. Die for her._**

_Tuxedo…_

And then he was bounding across rooftops, the dual pulse beating crazily in his ears as he followed the sound of the heartbeat. He didn't know who, why or _what_ he was, but an exhilarated shout and the ethereal scent of roses haunted the rooftops as Tuxedo Kamen passed by.

* * *

She reached up with gloved hands and felt her face, the eerily-familiar yet foreign tiara, the half-mask that hid her eyes. 

Sailormoon smiled, and there was a fierce, untamed element to it. She turned to the monster, which looked a little confused. '_Youma_,' her mind whispered. '_It's called a youma_.'

"And who might you be?" it inquired, perhaps a little amusedly. Its claws grew another two inches or so, and Sailormoon fell into a comfortable fighting stance.

"Ai to seigi no, seerafuku bishojou senshi! Sailormoon!" she informed it, removing her tiara from her forehead and making a slashing motion. It promptly reshaped itself into a slender, golden tachi-style sword with the red gem as its pommelstone. Swinging the sword a few times to get the heft of it, Sailormoon flashed a grin at the youma, who looked a little confused.

Regaining its composure, the youma sneered. "Oh? Well I'm Iibarujueru and I've never heard of _you_ before." She brandished her claws again and snarled at the mounds of unconscious people littering the floors. "Up, you fools! You've given your energy to the Dark Kingdom, now you'll give your strength to fight for us! _Get her_!"

'_Oh, I don't think so,_' Sailormoon thought viciously. Half-remembered lessons on combat strategy came to her mind. The number one rule was _Finish it, and Finish it quickly_. The sword in her hand began to glow faintly as she fed her energy into it, powering it up. That was when the first zombies began to rise and she sped up the process, sweat beading her brow as white light blazed from her small form and into her weapon.

Iibarujueru attacked as Sailormoon kicked two zombies away from her, firing all five of the fourteen-inch fingernails on her right hand at the labouring senshi. Sailormoon prepared to leap out of the way, but four blurs of crimson countered four claws and a gloved hand actually snatched the last one out of the air before its owner whisked Sailormoon into their arms and made a great leap, landing not two yards away from the youma. "Ima da, Sailormoon!" the voice was male, a deep tenor.

Sailormoon didn't waste any time powering up her sword to its full attack and before Iibarujueru could fire off the remaining five nails, a rose pierced her shoulder, and another her eye. That was all the distraction Sailormoon needed, and as the youma shrieked in mingled pain and fury, the moon senshi took two big steps forward and swung the sword with all her might.

"Moon Tiara _Action_!" she roared, the tiara-sword cleaving Iibarujueru cleanly in half, the two pieces of her body disintegrating into greyish dust before they hit the floor.

Sailormoon stood there, chest heaving with the exertion that charging her attack had taken. Using the tiara in its range-weapon form – a discus – could have resulted in it being knocked out of the air or countered by one of the zombies. The sword took less energy, though more time to empower, and had a higher accuracy rate to boot.

Remembering her rescuer, she whirled around, sword still in hand, to gaze up into a face partially concealed by a white domino mask just like her own. They gazed at each other in silence for a long moment until groans filled the room: the reenergised victims returning to normal.

When the police broke down the door, followed by a completely hysterical Osaka Naru, about twenty people of varying ages were waking as if from a deep sleep, deeply confused and disoriented. Those outside, however, caught sight of two silhouettes against the noon sky leaping from rooftop to rooftop, but all they could make out was that one was a male wearing a cape that fluttered behind him as he ran, and the other was female with twin pigtails streaming from two round buns on her head.

* * *

Sailormoon alighted easily upon one of the gaudily painted support beams of a curiously-elegant tower and turned to regard her darkly-clad… ally? Companion? She didn't know, any more than she knew why someone had built a graceful structure out of wrought iron and painted it in stripes of white and candy-red. 

…No.

She did know.

Somewhere deep in her soul told her that she could trust him.

Too bad that same part of her soul couldn't tell her his _name_.

He landed noiselessly beside her, and she took a moment to really properly look at him, in a way she hadn't had time to when they were avoiding questions or in the middle of battle.

'_So lovely_,' she thought wistfully. Trim hips, broad shoulders, long legs, and all of it wrapped in a dapper tuxedo tailored to almost painful perfection — and the cape and mask? Very dashing.

'_Shame about the hat, though…_'

He took it off, as if hearing her, and saluted her with it, giving her an excellent view of delightfully untidy black hair. "An excellent show, my lady."

"I was hardly the only one in it," she said, giving him a dancer's curtsey. "Might I have the honour of my fellow-performer's name?"

"When the possibility it might someday fall from your lips is the greatest honour it could dream of, what can I do but comply? I am known as Tuxedo Kamen." He bowed over her hand, raising it to his lips. "Your servant, my lady."

"And my ally, I hope?" she returned, smiling up at him. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Tuxedo Kamen. I am —"

"'Love and Justice's beautiful sailor-suited soldier, Sailormoon', if memory serves?" he returned the grin.

"Just so," she said softly, wishing she could see the eyes behind the mask; eyes she was somehow sure would be as beautiful as the rest of him. "Will I see you again?"

He released her hand, at last returning the top hat to its place atop his head. "As often as you walk the night — or the noonday," he amended with a wry grin, "so will you find your cavalier."

"Then I would almost welcome another youma," Sailormoon admitted softly, "for the sake of the prospect."

"As kind as she is beautiful — the Moon has chosen her guardian well."

She felt herself turning pink. "The gentleman is too gallant," she murmured.

"The gentleman has eyes, my lady. But here I fear I must leave you — this place is beautiful indeed, but a lovely scene will always have throngs to view it."

"And I have my own duties," she said softly. "Be well, good sir, until we meet again."

He made her another bow and leapt from the beam, his cape flapping in the wind. "Sarabada!"

She watched for a moment as he landed on a nearby roof and bounded onward.

"Farewell, masked man," she murmured, and went her own way. There was someplace she had to be. She'd know it when she got there….

* * *

Dark blue eyes opened languorously to be presented with the sight of an off-white ceiling, and Mamoru stretched out his tall frame before freezing mid-yawn. His gaze flitted about the immaculate living room, noting that the glass doors leading to his balcony were open and the curtains billowing in the afternoon breeze. Sitting up sharply, he rubbed a hand over his face, noting that there were no carpet-imprints, which meant that he hadn't been lying on the floor for too long. 

A sudden rush of fear coursed through him; fear of the unknown. He had been in the Crown Arcade, obediently consuming the sundae that his Tenshiko had made him promise not to waste. Then he had… dropped the spoon? He remembered a tingly yet numb sort of feeling, and after that – nothing.

Everything was hazy, and his muscles were sore. Going on impulse, he ran to the door and checked the locks; they were untouched, and he was still wearing his shoes. He _always_ took off his shoes in the entryway – before tiled floor met the carpeted area – so as not to damage or dirty the cream-coloured affair.

"Kami-sama," he breathed, legs feeling weak as he set his shoes aside and stumbled back into the living area. "What happened?"

The only logical explanation for what had happened was that he had… it couldn't be. He turned disbelieving eyes towards the balcony doors and jogged through them, leaning against the iron-wrought railings to peer over them. He was ten stories up – there was no _way_ he could have –

– But all the evidence pointed towards it.

Somehow, Mamoru had climbed ten stories up the side of a building and slipped through the unlocked balcony doors before collapsing in his living room.

The only other explanation was that Motoki'd decided to play a joke on him and had set the entire thing up to screw with Mamoru's mind.

"Iie, he wouldn't do that," Mamoru muttered. "He never leaves the arcade unless he takes breaks, for one thing, and even his breaks aren't that long. Even though he and Tenshiko are the only others that have the keys to my apartment –"

Mamoru padded back inside, eyes blank as he tried to make sense of the situation and failed. Desperately, he picked up the phone and rang Motoki's cell.

"Moshi mo –" Motoki's voice began.

Mamoru cut him off with an exclaimed "Motoki-kun!"

"Mamoru-kun, is that you? Kuso, I'm such a baka, of _course_ it's you –"

"Motoki-kun," Mamoru said loudly, "do you know when I left the arcade?" A heavy silence descended on the other side of the line. "Motoki?"

"You – you don't remember?" Motoki's tone was disbelieving. Mamoru resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall.

"No, I'm asking you to waste my time and yours!" was the terse, sarcastic response.

"Kuso, you don't have to be so anal about it. Anou… you were eating Usagi-chan's sundae and then you stopped and acted all weird before leaving. I tried calling after you, and told Unazuki to watch the place for a moment so I could find out what was wrong, but then you just – I couldn't find you!"

Mamoru didn't hear anything after that, midnight eyes glazing over. "What's going on?" he asked himself shakily.

"Mamoru-kun, did you say something?" Motoki's voice was worried.

"Iie, Motoki-kun, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Nani? Mamor –" Mamoru hung up abruptly, sagging against the wall.

"What the _hell_ is happening to me?"

* * *

"Are you absolutely _sure_ you haven't found her?" Naru begged the officer in charge of the scene. 

He shook his head. "For the last time, Osaka-san, everyone present at the scene has been checked over. We combed the basement, the upstairs apartment, and the back storage room where we found your mother, and there was no sign of anyone else; none of the victims of this even has blonde hair." Naru fought back a sob, and he patted her shoulder. "If she hasn't appeared in twenty-four hours, _then_ we'll worry if she's missing, all right? Why don't you call her home? Maybe she escaped before we got here."

"But the door was _locked_ and the back door was blocked by Mama's body! Usagi would never have left her helpless like that — or anyone else, either!"

He patted her shoulder again, already paying more attention to one of his fellows. Naru didn't think he had even been listening. "Maa, maa, Osaka-san, I'm sure it'll be fine. Go get some rest, ne? Now, Fushida, you were saying about fingerprints…?"

She resisted the urge to throw something at his head. Didn't anyone _care_? Usagi had saved her _life_ by throwing her out of the store — why did no-one seem to realise that when her best friend had done that, she had locked _herself_ in with that — that — _thing_ that had called itself Naru's own mother?

It had been twenty minutes before the police could be mobilised — anything could have happened in twenty minutes! What had happened to Usagi? Had she fought it? Was she hurt? For that matter — where _was_ she?

'_And what is Mamoru-san going to do to me when he finds out I left her alone with a monster_?'

Mamoru. Oh Kami, Mamoru. Someone was going to have to tell him that Usagi was missing. '_And her mother. Don't forget her parents._'

Somehow Mrs. Tsukino seemed the far easier prospect.

Mamoru was probably still at the arcade; he'd had a textbook with him, and Usagi was always playfully grumping about how he was during study-time.

And the phone was right here…

Naru took a deep breath and went upstairs. She'd call Tsukino-san, and if anything was left of her then it would dutifully scrape itself up, drag itself down to the arcade, prostrate itself before Chiba Mamoru, and hope for mercy.

The odds of which were depressingly slim.

Microscopic, even.

…Wonderful, she'd even developed a sense of gallows humour. Humming the funeral march and sparing a thought for just heading straight to her room and crawling under the covers for a hundred years, she went into the kitchen and sat before the phone.

'_Just pick it up, Osaka_,' she thought with annoyance. '_At least you get to do this one by remote._'

She picked it up and dialled.

Ring…. Ring… Click. "Hai, moshi moshi, Tsukino desu," Tsukino Ikuko said cheerfully.

"M… moshi moshi, Tsukino-san. This is Osaka Naru —"

"Aa, Naru-chan!" Ikuko-san interrupted. "You must want Usagi-chan! Hold on just a moment —"The sound became muffled. Ikuko-san must have put her hand over the receiver. "_Usagi-chan! It's Naru on the phone!_"

Naru blinked. _Usagi_? Coming to get the phone? But wasn't she —

Usagi's mother was back on the line. "I hope you'll be able to help her, dear, she's been acting strangely since she came home."

'_Since she came _home?' "H-hai —"

Tsukino-san didn't seem to be listening. Adults never did. "I still don't know how she snuck in, though. I was cleaning the hallway and then she was coming down the stairs — ah, here she is now."

"Arigatou, mama, I'll take this up to my room," said Usagi's voice. There was a noise as of feet on the stairs, then a click, and then, silence.

Naru waited, knuckles white. What was going _on_?

Usagi's voice came over the line, soft and timid. "N-Naru-chan?"

"Usagi!" Naru blurted, unable to help herself. "Is it you? Are you alright? Where _were_ you? The police had to break in and then you weren't _there_ and I was so worried and I was scared to death I'd have to tell Mamoru —"

"…you don't know…?"

"'I don't know?' Of _course_ I don't know, the last I saw you were locking me out of my own home and yourself in with a monster! How did you get home without the police _or your mother_ having the faintest clue you were even there?"

"_I don't know_!" Usagi wailed. "The last thing I remember is thinking we were going to die and locking the door and then —" she broke off.

"Well?" Naru asked, a little more gently. Usagi seemed even more traumatised than she was.

"— and then I woke up," Usagi said softly.

Silence. Naru stared at the flower arrangement on the kitchen table. '_It needs dusting,_' she thought irrelevantly. "…you woke up," she repeated after a moment.

"Hai," came the quiet reply. "Sprawled across my bed, with the covers made, as if… as if I'd collapsed onto it from the window."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes!_" snapped Usagi, voice brittle. "I don't know why I didn't just use the front door — Mama was home — but I know it, because I used to climb that tree all the time when I sneaked out from being grounded!"

"Maybe you hit your head when you fell in? Short-term amnesia and all that…"

"I thought that too, but my head is fine. No bumps, no nothing!" Usagi's voice hitched and her next words came out as a sob. "Oh, Naru-chan, what's _wrong_ with me?"

Naru closed her eyes, hating herself more and more as her best friend's, her sister in all but blood, distress sank into her confused mind. "I don't know, Usagi-chan," she whispered. "I don't know."

* * *

**Glossary:**

**_itai — _an exclamation. Equivalent to 'ouch' or 'ow'.**

**_gomen ne — _a semi-formal apology; 'I'm sorry' as compared to 'sorry'.**

**_Kami-sama, Kami _— 'God'. Used in North American nomenclature as a Japanese equivalent to US usage, 'God!' or 'Good Lord!'**

**_sarabada _— 'farewell'. Seems to be Tuxedo Kamen's favourite word, in first season anime.**

**_kuso — _colloquial; 'feces'; 'excrement'; 'shit'; 'bullshit'.**

**_baka _— 'fool, idiot'; more insulting in Japanese because of the importance of 'face'.**

**_anou _— an interjection; rather like 'say'; 'well'; 'er'.**

**_maa, maa _— an interjection something like 'now, now…'. Usually used as an equivalent to 'settle down'.**

**_moshi moshi — _hello (but strictly for the phone)**

**_arigatou _— semiformal; 'thank you.'

* * *

**


	3. Aisu Senshi wo Roken Shimasu!

**

* * *

A/N: An important note here – I'm a more than a little disappointed with the number of reviews we receive. Jikkan and I work _hard_ on our stories, and although it's fun writing them, it's funner seeing what others think of it. The first chapter got over twenty reviews, and the second got maybe seven? It drives me _batty _when I _know _there are plenty of readers and hits, but that less than _five _percent bother to review. Please drop a quick line on telling us which was your favourite part, who was written best or something. For us?**

**Anyway, thanks again to EightofSwords and Jonathan, who both left _lovely _bigarse, reviews. Domo, Swords-chan! Jona-kun!**

**Hey, speaking of which, Swords-chan… would you mind if we used your crazy!Asanuma? We're utilising a few other canon characters, but… /Arashi and Jikkan fall to knees and beg/ Onegai? **

**Now that plugging, thanks, demanding reviews and begging are all done…

* * *

**

**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**II – Aisu Senshi wo Roken Shimasu!**

_**The Ice Senshi is Discovered!

* * *

**_

'_Our hearts must be untouched by and immune to men, because men are distractions in our duty. Thus, we have lovers, but no beloved. Any man who loves us is doomed to love a woman of frost and disdain, for we are certainly incapable of loving any but our Princess._'

– Sailorjupiter of the Inner Senshi

* * *

Usagi was bone-tired. One of the side-effects of the mysterious 'incident' was that she had been too terrified to sleep that night, fearing a repeat. When she did drift off, it was into fitful dreams full of fire, pain and a loss so acute she was gasping for breath when she woke, tears still wet on her cheeks. 

Rocking herself miserably to and fro, she glanced at the glowing numbers on her digital alarm clock, limbs trembling almost uncontrollably from a combination of terror and simple exhaustion. "Four thirty on the dot," she mumbled. Well, her first class didn't start until eight thirty. Shuffling into her school fuku and forgoing the bow and usual hairstyle completely, she stuffed the bow in question as well as her completed homework into her satchel before checking she had her keys and quietly exiting the house.

Usagi's feet took her down the familiar route, and within twenty minutes she was standing outside Mamoru's apartment, squinting at her Sailor V keychain in the annoyingly dim lighting and trying to decide whether or not the brass key on the far right or the second to the right was the correct one.

Sighing in exasperation, she chose the slightly larger one that was second-to-right and was finally awarded by the lock turning smoothly and the door opening. Closing it quickly behind her, Usagi dumped her satchel to the floor, took off her shoes – Mamoru was particularly adamant about that, Kami knew why – and padded silently through the dark to where she knew his bedroom to be.

Pausing and then deciding to raid the clean laundry hamper first, Usagi undressed swiftly and donned one of his smaller button-up shirts and a pair of black boxers that made her snort. "Bounce me if you've got a coin," she muttered, craning her neck to read the English words blazoned on the seat of them with some kind of luminous lettering that shone clearly through the gloom. When had he bought _these_? As far as she knew, Mamoru had never taken any time to go shopping for his own clothes. As a result, _she _was the one who took care of the contents of his wardrobe; if she hadn't he'd probably still be wearing that hideous green blazer and black turtleneck combo he had appeared in one day.

"Ah, what gives," she mumbled, slipping under the cool sheets and curling up next to him. Burrowing into his side, Usagi felt Mamoru wrap a strong arm around her and pull her closer to him. She drifted off to sleep with a tiny smile on her face. He always did make her feel safe.

* * *

A pair of warm lips pressing lightly to her forehead woke her and she opened disoriented eyes blearily to meet sleepy sapphire ones. "Ohayou," Mamoru greeted lazily, a corner of his mouth quirking up into a wry grin. "I didn't hear you coming in last night." 

"Hai, I was pretty surprised about that in all honesty. I've never been able to come in without waking you before, let alone sneak up on you when you're awake. Must've been some day you had to put you in such a deep sleep." She paused deliberately before winking mock-lecherously at him. "Or perhaps it was the _kind _of _dreams_ you were having that you didn't want interrupted?"

Mamoru shoved her off the bed and onto the floor, smirking at her indignant yelp as she was tumbled from the warm sheets and sprawled unceremoniously onto carpeted floor. "No hentai thoughts, words or actions in _this_ bed, Tenshiko. Kenji-papa would have my head."

Usagi sulked and crawled right back underneath the covers. "I think you just made me get carpet burn," she complained, "and Papa doesn't care. He is _so_ not subtle when he says that he'd like 'Mamoru-kun to be an official part of the family' or 'Mamoru-kun is a good man, I hope that whichever girl he picks is well aware of that'."

Mamoru groaned. "Him and the rest of the world," he sighed. "Despite what you think, _I _know that he'd be downright dangerous; I've seen him handle that shotgun before, remember? Hell, I helped him _practice_!"

"Coward," she sulked, burrowing further into the blankets.

Mamoru sighed in exasperation, ripping them off of her. "Get _up_, Tenshiko, it's nearly seven thirty. No wonder people are wondering about us. You walking out of your own place at night to spend time at mine –" he paused then, turning to stare intently at her. "Speaking of which, when did you go out last night?"

"That's none of your –"

"I'm _making _it my business. What if you got hurt coming to _my_ apartment? Not only would I never be able to look your folks in the eye again, but…" he trailed off before turning on the glare again. "When did you go out the door?"

"I can defend myself –"

"Not against a rapist dragging you into a dark alley, you can't, or a mugger with a knife. What if he or she had a gun? What if –"

"What if you'd just let me _finish_," Usagi sniffed, touched in spite of her outward irritation, "I went out at about quarter to five and I –"

"That late?" Mamoru, Usagi had discovered early on in their friendship, had a tendency to get this particularly persistent tic in his jaw whenever he was furious.

There was a muscle working in his cheek right now. Usagi stared fixatedly at it. Maybe if she looked long enough, it'd stop the incoming explosion…

The tic throbbed with wild abandon.

Usagi bit her lip as Mamoru stalked past her, stiff-legged, tight-shouldered, and wearing nothing but a pair of lilac briefs with '_Right On!_' inscribed in spiky burgundy script on them. She resisted the insane urge to laugh and handed him his house robe as she passed him on her way to the fridge instead. After all, she could hardly tease him for wearing underwear that _she_ bought for him, could she?

"Can we take the motorcycle today?" Usagi begged, setting the cup of unsweetened black coffee in front of him as he returned from doing his normal morning routine. It never hurt to butter him up, although he'd never refused her or stayed angry at her for more than a period of thirty seconds before. "Onegai, Mamo-chan?" she batted her lashes at Mamoru and watched his stony expression melt into a reluctant smile before he reached over to give her a warm hug.

"That's playing dirty, Tenshiko," he whispered into her hair. "Fine, we'll take the motorcycle; now go get dressed unless you want to go to school in my shirt and boxers."

Usagi grinned impishly at him. "Speaking of which, Mamo-chan, when did you get these ones? 'Bounce me?'"

His furious blush made her laugh, but she felt a little twinge of something uncurling in her gut. Later, she would look back and recognise it as jealousy, but for now, her hands fisted and she wondered miserably just which of his many admirers had gotten it for him.

* * *

Jadeite came to with a hoarse yell as the viciously-searing cuts on his back, arms and legs made themselves known. Two sets of hands held him still as someone else continued to clean the wounds. 

"Back to the world of the living, I see," Zoicite's voice was full of grim humour as he sterilised a needle. "How do you feel, brother?"

"Like _shit_," Jadeite rasped, his throat hoarse from screaming. "Which is as good as anyone under that bitch can be."

"Careful," Nephrite cautioned calmly, pressing a cool cloth to his brother's fevered brow. "The walls have ears."

"And the Queen has at least given us a chance to regain our honour," Kunzite snapped. "We should be grateful for that."

"What honour is there in draining innocents?" Jadeite snarled, trying to sit up and swearing as Nephrite held him down. "I opened the portal, brought Iibarujueru through, set up the operation and watched as civilians who have no place in our squabble with the past collapse as their very life energy was taken from them! What honour is _that_, I ask you?"

Kunzite's eyes narrowed, but he did not answer. It was Zoicite who spoke next. "We will just have to wait and see. Hold still," he added, as he began to stitch up the deeper cuts. "Jadeite, it was Beryl who found us, who helped us regain our memories of the Silver Millennium and those she-demons they called the defenders of the solar system. Now, we have a purpose where we were lost before. The death of Iibarujueru shows that there is at least one of the sailor senshi still out there – we will confront and defeat her."

Nephrite sighed. "I do not understand it, though. There was never a Sailormoon, or – that other one up in Europe? – Sailor V. From some examining of the world's present culture, I believe Sailor V is simply what they call an idol, someone who is an example for today's society and suchlike. There are plays and picture books enacted and written about her –"

"In other words, she's a blonde bimbo who meddles, only with an _ego_," Kunzite sniffed. "Exactly like one of those damned senshi."

"Well… yes," Nephrite admitted reluctantly.

Jadeite snorted in spite of the searing pain in his back. "I still think that we could regain our honour some other way. We cannot do it under Beryl, because she herself has no – _ow_! Watch where you stab that needle, you buffoon!"

"_Sorry_, brother," everyone present could hear the smirk in Zoicite's tone as he inspected the neat stitches and sighed before moving onto the next one. "In any case, you should be fine by tomorrow, provided you don't move at all today, or the stitches will tear and you'll end up with even more scar tissue."

"I don't understand why you had to use the needle in the first place," Jadeite complained. "We heal almost instantly –"

"Jadeite, the entire point of this ordeal is _punishment_. Beryl is the one enhancing our strength until we redeem ourselves and come back into our own power. Part of that strength is directed into healing, which explains why you are still bedridden. What Zoicite is saying is that the stitches will hold your wounds closed and stop you from dying of blood loss until Queen Beryl allows them to heal – she isn't exactly very happy with you right now, so you are, essentially, a mortal," Nephrite lectured.

"A mortal with power," Jadeite contradicted arrogantly before flinching again. "_Agh_! Watch it!"

"Sorry."

* * *

_She finds herself in the strange void, faintly registering voices and thoughts through the darkness as deep water would register sunlight from the surface far above. She is drowsy, and wants to go back to sleep and dream._

_She dreams often, really. Sometimes she sees herself laughing with Endymion, urging him to take a sip out of her milkshake, scolding him for studying too hard. This puzzles her slightly, as she cannot understand the world her imagination has spun; one teeming with engines deadly to the Earth's atmosphere and full of clutter and noise. What is a milkshake, anyway? _

_More recently, however, she dreams of herself in an immodestly short skirt, like those that her protectors and sisters wear, a golden blade she wields and the air whistling past her ears as she leaps forward to end her enemy's life, the sword coming down –_

– _and there is Endymion again, in the formal garb of his people, defending and protecting her, just as he had from the very start. She wonders again at her subconscious' imagination; although she was skilled with a blade, the staff, and the discus, her mother would never let her fight, least of all on this strange mutant of the beautiful blue planet. _

_She sighs a tiny sigh at this thought and curls into herself a little more tightly before allowing the dreams to take her away again. Dreams were all she had in this confusing limbo, and so she would dream until she awoke once more._

* * *

Ami was lost. 

She looked around the crowded entrance hall with something approaching desperation – class started in twenty minutes and she hadn't the foggiest as to where to go or what to do! She _knew _she should have double-checked everything, as was her usual approach to anything unfamiliar, but…

For some reason, her eyes were drawn to a couple that had just entered the building. The young man was tall, strong and nothing short of gorgeous, his stance and every movement indicating protectiveness of the girl by his side, who was radiantly beautiful and laughing at something he'd just said. For a moment, her sparkling cerulean eyes met Ami's solemn turquoise ones, and Ami inhaled sharply. Suddenly, everything was somehow right and she wasn't standing lost in a crowded building full of strangers.

Ami took a step forward, instinctively drawn to the golden-haired teen, but the blonde looked away first to say something to her ebon-haired companion and the bluenette's courage wilted. So much for asking directions from _her_ then… what was she thinking? The girl was probably the head of some snobbish clique of cheerleaders just like the ones that had teased Ami in all of the other schools she'd been to, and her boyfriend could only be the traditional counterpart; some kind of sports team captain who was all brawn and no brains. You didn't get a build like that by sitting around and studying all day.

The bluenette let out a startled cry when she was jostled forcefully by a few juniors in football jerseys and knocked over, books and stationary spilling everywhere as the seams to her beloved satchel tore with an audible rip. Suppressing the tears that threatened to choke her, she knelt clumsily and attempted to retrieve all her books and binders. Ami nearly jumped out of her skin when a bell-clear voice sounded out right next to her ear.

"How _dare _they!" the blonde from earlier spat, handing Ami her graphing calculator and reaching for a heavy text on microbial genesis. "Running over you like that and then not even bothering to help you up!"

Ami blinked, unsure if she'd heard right. "I beg your pardon?" she inquired politely.

The boyfriend knelt to examine some of the titles in Ami's arms, eyes almost glowing. "No way! _Mathematical Methods of Quantum Optics_? _The Conceptual Foundations of Quantum Field Theory_? Where did you get a copy of _that_? It's not a rare book or anything, but every bookstore I've checked is restocking or something and there's some mess up in the shipping, so I couldn't buy one online…"

Ami blinked before a small blush spread across her cheeks. Obviously, she was wrong about the boyfriend, considering no jock would have any kind of interest in quantum physics. "Would you like to borrow them, then?" she offered, feeling it was the least she could do for judging him even before she'd met him. '_He's also very handsome…_' she blushed again before hastily adding; "I'm nearly done with them, anyway –"

"_Really_? Domo arigatou gozaimasu…" he looked positively giddy but sighed with regret. "Demo, I'll let you finish it before I snatch, ne?"

"Mamo-chan, really," his girlfriend chided. Turning to Ami, she took some of the bluenette's load into her own arms. "I'm Tsukino Usagi, and this is my best friend, Chiba Mamoru. Are you new?" she asked kindly.

Ami blinked again.

'_Best friends?_'

She felt her face growing hot again before she nodded. "Hai, I am," she responded embarrassedly. "I was going to ask someone for directions, but –" Ami shook her head again, realising how rude she was being. "Gomen nasai, I'm Mizuno Ami…"

"Nice to meet you, Ami-chan!" Usagi chirruped cheerfully. "Some of the people here are real brutes. Here, are you still looking for a locker? You can take one near mine and Mamo-chan's, if you like?" Without waiting for an answer, Usagi bounced gaily down the crowded hallways, the crowd parting easily before her bright spirit as she passed by, calling out greetings to those she knew and smiling warmly at those she didn't.

"Don't take her informality as an offence," a husky voice whispered in her ear. Ami blushed in spite of her self and refused to look Mamoru in the eye. He merely smiled. "Tenshiko – that's Usagi, gomen ne — is very cheerful. Telling her to be formal to a stranger is like telling a hawk to play nurse to a crippled rabbit. I just wanted you to know that before you judged her. Too many people do that before even meeting her properly." He straightened and strode over to Usagi, who was waving impatiently at them.

Ami paused for a moment, more ashamed than ever at her train of thoughts when she had first seen them. '_Ami-chan,_' the bluenette thought, moving towards them. Her lips tilted upwards into a wide smile. '_No one's ever called me that…_'

Maybe this year would be different to all the other ones.

* * *

Ami could hardly stop smiling the entire day. She had made an instant friend and at least three friendly acquaintances in Mamoru, Osaka Naru – another one of Usagi's friends – and a funny boy named Umino Gurio that had a huge crush on the oblivious Usagi. Sure, the students in her classes had not been very receptive when they had found out that she was Mizuno Ami, the Genius Bluenette. 

Sometimes she seriously considered dyeing her hair and playing stupid.

Ami laughed softly at her ridiculous train of thought. It must have something to do with the strange up swell of happiness in her breast. As Naru and Mamoru had claimed the lockers on either side of Usagi's, Usagi led Ami to the free locker to the left of Naru's and then promptly introduced the two. That was when the tardy bell rang and Usagi and Naru, upon finding that Ami also had English with Haruna first block, bid farewell to an amused Mamoru before hustling her to the class in question and then into a seat between the two of them at Usagi's insistence.

Right now, however, Ami had Psychology, Usagi Science class and Naru Gym. Ami reached the psychology classroom only to find a note written on the whiteboard informing her that the first lesson was to be held in a computer lab. Shrugging, Ami went to ask for directions from the teacher next door and then set off. She got lost twice, and the bell for class had long since rung, much to her dismay. Nevertheless, she knocked quickly on the clouded glass pane of the door to announce her presence and then entered.

Closing the door behind her, Ami bowed hastily. "Gomen, gomen, gomen nasai, Kawasemi-sensei," she apologised, straightening. "I got lost, you see, and – EEEK!"

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else, _dear_," the overly endowed _female _monster informed her, all saccharine sweetness as she brandished an uncommonly sharp teacher's pointer at Ami. "Kawasemi-sensei is currently… indisposed; I will be your substitute." Blood-red lips smiled widely, revealing fangs. "I'm Iibarutiicha and your energy now has the honour of belonging to the Dark Kingdom!"

* * *

Usagi was going up to the teacher's desk to get pondweed for the lab they were setting up when suddenly everything went black. 

She woke to see Hachidori-sensei's small, lined face directly above her. His eyes were curious as his squeaky voice piped his concern for her; "Tsukino-san, daijoubu?"

"Dai…joubu?" Usagi's voice felt like it was coming from far away, and it wasn't her who pushed herself to her feet, body humming with adrenaline. "Hachidori-sensei, I still feel a little faint – may I go to the washroom?"

Hachidori blinked rapidly at her. "Are you sure you don't need a trip to the nurse's office? It's not very often I have students collapsing in my classroom on the first day of school."

"Iie, iie… I'll be fine," that other Usagi brushed herself off briskly and exited the science lab, making a beeline towards the computer wing.

That was when the blinding light took her, exhilaration racing through her veins before she was lost to it.

* * *

It was happening again. 

As was his duty as head of the Moto Azabu student populace, Mamoru had been in a meeting with several other class representatives when it came upon him. Power, intoxicating and heady, flooded him even as the demanding bond yanked him to his feet. Through the throb of two distinct heartbeats, he heard very distantly someone talking to him.

"…do you think, Chiba-senpai? Chiba-senpai?"

Midnight blue eyes flashed a molten gold, silencing the persistent sophomore who had spoken. Mamoru, at this point desperately fighting whatever it was trying to take control, spoke tersely, striding towards the door to the conference room. "My most sincere apologies for leaving you like this – continue as you were. I'll be right back."

As he left the room of confused and somewhat shaken students, Mamoru slipped into a small niche before doubling over. As the dual pulses reached a crescendo and synchronised, his school uniform melted into the disconcertingly familiar tuxedo and cape.

Tuxedo Kamen ghosted silently through the school halls, eyes darting to and fro behind his mask as he followed the pull of the bond. If he squinted _just so_, he could see it faintly, gold and silver threads braided intricately together and streaming from his heart to Sailormoon's.

Suddenly, he was almost bowled over by what seemed like emotions cut and chiselled into an unmistakable question.

_Are you there?_

He picked up the pace, sending a wave of reassurance down the gold and silver link.

_I'm coming.

* * *

_

A block away, a black cat's head snapped up and she sprinted through the near-deserted streets and through the open gates of the school gates, the golden crescent moon insignia on her forehead glowing as she responded to an unspoken call.

* * *

Ami blinked. 

Her first impulse was to ask what this 'Dark Kingdom' thing was, exactly, but then she realised that she was about to be skewered by a teacher's pointer of all things, and so kept her mouth shut tightly. Iibarutiicha looked irritated. "Well, aren't you going to say something about that?"

"Nani?" Ami was really confused now.

"Aren't you going to… I don't know, scream or beg for your life or something?" Iibarutiicha asked hopefully. "I was hoping for some grovelling…"

Ami sweatdropped. "Anou… I don't know." She looked apprehensively around the computer lab and winced. Each student was bound to their chair with scotch tape and slumped over his or her keyboard in some kind of lethargic trance. The real Kawasemi-sensei, she assumed upon seeing a sturdily built redhead in his fifties, was also there, profoundly unconscious and pinned to the desk with several paper cutters.

"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" Iibarutiicha sighed. "Ah well, it was nice talking to you…" She threw a large, thick roll of tape at Ami, who ducked and ran back towards the door. A pencil with a frighteningly sharp point thudded into the lock, effectively discouraging the bluenette from moving further towards it.

Iibarutiicha frowned at Ami. "If you're going to keep moving, this is going to hurt more than if I just used the tape," she snapped. "Hold _still_!"

"Iie!" Ami shouted, darting around the classroom as Iibarutiicha levelled a staple gun at her. The stream of staples missed the bluenette by inches, and Ami bit her lip, truly terrified as she ripped a keyboard clean out of its socket and threw it at the teacher-youma. A bottle of calligraphy ink from Iibarutiicha flew past the bluenette's nose and smashed on the wall, the dark liquid immediately beginning to eat a hole through plaster and stone.

Ami sweatdropped again and threw a mouse pad, which didn't do much except float to the floor uselessly. Diving out of the way of yet more staples, the bluenette found herself falling into the way of another hurled pencil. Flinching and about to close her eyes, Ami was understandably surprised when a disk of what appeared to be solid light disintegrated the missile only two feet from her before boomeranging around to knock the stapler gun out of the youma's hand.

"Nani?" Iibarutiicha gaped at the hunk of twisted metal that had once been her weapon before turning furious eyes on the petite, sailor-suited young woman standing behind her, who merely raised her eyebrows mockingly in response.

"Ai to seigi no, seerafuku bishojou senshi! Sailormoon!" Sailormoon caught her still-glowing weapon casually and shoved it under her bangs again. She leapt away to avoid another pencil missile and took up a defensive position in front of Ami, the tiara on her forehead glowing golden as she poured energy into it. '_I've only got enough energy left for one or two throws before I start slowing down_,' she guessed, and bit her lip hard.

"Sailormoon? My master warned me about you and that crazy boyfriend of yours… how did you get in here!"

"I'm pleased to hear that my reputation and that of my ally's precedes me." Sailormoon cocked her head to the side in mock-gratification, hoping to buy more time until Tuxedo Kamen might arrive. "As for how I came in…" Sailormoon half-smiled and gestured toward the flattened and splintered door, the glass pane still, amazingly, in once piece, "Why, the same way everyone else does — through the door."

Ami watched apprehensively as Sailormoon stalled for time – for some kind of reinforcements, perhaps? – and let out a startled exclamation when sharp claws dug into her thighs. "Nani? Go away, neko-san!"

"Certainly not!" the cat hissed.

Ami blinked. Once. Twice.

'_I'm unconscious and hallucinating,_' she thought hysterically before muttering to herself aloud. "Wake up, Mizuno Ami."

"You are _not _hallucinating," the cat hissed, correctly guessing the thoughts going through the dazed girl's head. A startled cry had both the cat and human look up sharply, and Ami gasped as she saw Sailormoon choking as a grey-uniformed blonde man held her aloft by the neck, squeezing viciously as Iibarutiicha cheered him on. He had obviously caught Sailormoon off guard, and she was now paying the price. Black fire streamed from his hands and into her body, angry red blisters appearing on porcelain skin as she screamed in pain.

"Sailormoon!" Ami gasped, and as sudden images flew through her mind – _a beautiful silver-haired young woman kissed her tenderly on the forehead before pulling her to her feet and telling her never to kneel to anyone again** – **_a blue insignia blazed to life on Ami's forehead.

Luna sighed in relief, glad that she had been right in her hunch, and did a quick backflip, using the momentum to reach into her subspace pocket and fling something small and blue in Ami's direction. She caught the pen-like creation automatically and raised it above her head, a fierce expression forming on her face.

Luna began to speak, "Say –"

"Mercury Power, _Make-Up_!" Ami roared, and everything erupted in a blaze of blue-white light.

As her school uniform dissolved away, bands of frosty fire wrapped themselves around her naked form and solidified into a bodysuit, skirt, boots and gloves much like those Sailormoon wore, a gold tiara studded with a sapphire flashing into existence to cover the glowing symbol of Mercury.

As her henshin phase finished, Sailormercury didn't even bother to announce herself; she cupped her hands, willing the energy boiling in her to find a release. '_Shabon…Shabon…Shabon…damnit, I _know_ this…_' "Shabon Spr –"

"How _dare_ you!" a tenor voice hissed furiously, and the incantation bubbling in Mercury's mouth died as a heavy computer monitor sailed through the air and hit the uniformed man squarely in the side. There was an audible crunching noise as he let go of Sailormoon and doubled over in pain. A dark shape – a man in a _tuxedo_, Mercury realised incredulously – covered the distance between him and the grey-uniformed person in two bounds and cursed fluently when his adversary vanished in a flash of black fire and reappeared on the other side of the room.

"I am Jadeite, Shitennou of the Sun," the uniformed man snarled. "Rest assured, we _will _meet again."

A long-stemmed – _razor tipped? _– rose thudded harmlessly into the wall as Jadeite disappeared again, this time not reappearing. Once again, profanities blistered the air as Sailormoon's rescuer expressed his extreme displeasure.

"The _youma_, Mercury!" Luna hissed, and Mercury took a deep breath, feeling the unabated pressure and rage _still _welling up from deep down…

"_Shabon Spray_!" she shouted, and a thousand tiny ice crystals hurtled towards the forgotten Iibarutiicha, digging into her soft flesh even as the icy fog they travelled in froze her nearly to the core, cutting her off mid-scream.

Sailormoon struggled to her feet, limbs trembling uncontrollably and a glazed look in her eyes. "T-T-Tuxedo Kamen," she whispered. He was at her side in a flash, scooping her tenderly into his arms and pulling a white glove off before pressing a bare hand to the moon senshi's neck. Golden tendrils of energy caressed her petite form and she shuddered slightly.

"Itai," Sailormoon mumbled hoarsely. "By the sun, moon and stars, I _ache_…"

"Hush and hold still," Tuxedo Kamen told her gently, watching the blisters shrink and fade, the reddened skin fading back it its usual pale tone even as sweat beaded on his brow from the effort of healing her. "I believe the best, and safest, course of action would be to remove ourselves from this scene as soon as possible –"

"Iie, Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she shook her head dizzily, beating her fists weakly against his chest in a plea to be let down. "I must finish this."

He shot a dark look at the frozen youma and lifted his bare hand from her neck for a moment, sparks still dancing about his fingers. He made a sweeping motion; a torrent of red-gold flame blazed from his palm and obliterated the hapless Iibarutiicha.

Sailormoon clenched her hands in his jacket as she felt him tremble – obviously, the attack had taken quite a bit out of him, and she opened her mouth to inquire –

"Sailormoon!" a similarly-clad senshi in blue appeared at his elbow and a cat at his ankle. Tuxedo Kamen resisted the urge to blast them and instead levelled a cool glare at the senshi of ice. "Is she alright?"

"She is strong," was all he said. He tucked his glove into his breast pocket and adjusted his grip on Sailormoon, turning to leave.

"If she would consent, I have a few questions to ask of her –" the cat began hesitantly.

"And you will get your answers another time, if you get them at all," Tuxedo Kamen's eyebrows knit angrily. He wondered briefly why he was not more surprised at the presence of a talking animal, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as it came. "A healing takes energy mainly from the healed, and she will need rest."

Sailormoon said nothing, having fallen into an exhausted sleep, and he gave them a pointed look from behind his white mask. "Sarabada," he nodded curtly, and, in a whirl of black and red, was gone, and the sleeping senshi with him.

* * *

Tuxedo Kamen brushed aside a few golden bangs even as he continued to channel more of his energy into the exhausted senshi. His search for a secluded, quiet place to tend to her had led them to a small grove behind the basketball courts, high in the branches of an oak tree. The spirit of the old oak was friendly enough, if not a little surprised to be addressed, and was more than willing to share a bit of its ki with a needy human. Tuxedo Kamen made an absentminded note to find some way to thank it later. 

He tilted her head back to examine her throat, and was pleased to find only the faint, rapidly-fading touches of pink on creamy skin. It was _his_ fault she'd suffered those terrible burns; only proper that he should be the one to erase them. Too slow, too _damned_ slow, and almost too late — he'd thought his heart had stopped when he heard her screaming —

'_Jadeite_.' His lips curled in a silent snarl, his grip on the tiny blonde tightening possessively. He'd been right to run as quickly as he did; only let Kamen get a hand on him and he'd find far worse than his _ribs_ shattered for him, the black coward —

Sailormoon whimpered a little, fretfully, and he forced his hands to relax, himself to calm. Unconsciousness did not block a bond, and she did not deserve to be hurt by his rampant emotions when she'd already been so injured by his absence.

He pulled her a little closer, arranged her more comfortably against his shoulder and chest. "Shhh, shhh, sleep a little longer, take your ease another moment, bishoujo senshi," he soothed her.

'_Give me this little time before you wake and banish the poor failure who dared call himself your cavalier._'

She gave voice to a sweet little sigh, as if in answer, and cuddled closer, a cheek resting contentedly against the heavy silk of his vest while her free hand came up to clutch at his lapel.

He didn't deserve to have her so close…

'_Hush_,' he said again, this time to his whirling mind. '_There will be time enough for thoughts like that when she is awake._'

Better to enjoy this while he could: the quiet music of the breeze as it danced through the grove, singing to itself; the dappled sunlight; the warm solidity of the trunk at his back and the limb under his legs, shelter and sustenance both at once.

All of it so familiar…

The oak had been content to cradle them in silence, until now, but at last it raised its voice.

_: Once, long ago, men spoke to us. :_

He let a bare palm rest on smooth bark. 'As I do to you?'

_: Not all men. A select few, who wielded a golden power unlike any other in the universe. :_

A golden power… 'Did they stop? Are they all gone?' The thought saddened him. He didn't know why; perhaps it was the idea of being completely unique, a thing to be grieved for as much as celebrated.

_: It has been a long time. :_

Almost certainly a yes, then. 'Long ago', as a tree called it…

He sighed and relaxed against the trunk, closing his eyes.

From the direction of the basketball courts, a shrill whistle sounded; a man's voice began to shout.

_: Your lady awakes. :_

He opened his eyes and looked down, and it was so; crystal blue met sapphire. 'So she does.'

"…I give you good morrow, my lady."

"And has it been so long?" she smiled up at him. "Has the gentleman been so kind as to be my couch for a night and a day, until the sun has again reached such a height?"

"Would that it were so," he said instantly, "But I fear you give me too much credit; it cannot have been more than a half-hour, though I would swear it were only five minutes."

"Say you thus? Then you are a great healer as well as a great warrior and a great gentleman, for I feel quite as if I had slept the clock 'round." She reached up to lay a gloved hand against his cheek, but he turned his face away.

"Not great," he said in a low voice. "Only guilty."

She put a hand to his other cheek, made him turn back to her. "And for what could you possibly feel guilty, Tuxedo Kamen-sama? Is saving a foolish woman from the consequences of her own hubris a deed of which one should feel shamed?"

The need to defend her from any and all comers swamped his guilt immediately. "Forgive the dissent, my lady, but being unexpectedly outnumbered is hardly what I would consider a fault one can attribute to the victim."

Her eyes were mischievous. "And yet there was no cause for them to be unexpected; where there is one monster, there may be two, and something to direct them. If I — a soldier, dear sir, not a 'helpless victim' — was injured because I failed to watch my back, that is no one's fault but my own."

"And what of the one who should have been watching it for you?" he asked bitterly. "I was almost too late —"

"But you were in time."

"But what if I hadn't been?"

"Such is not for us to know."

_: The lady is wise: _said the oak._ : Both have been wrong; both shall do better. :_

Tuxedo Kamen gave the tree an irritated look; Sailormoon laughed out loud.

"Oh, well said!" she applauded. "Tuxedo Kamen-sama, am I correct in thinking that was the _tree_?"

How could anyone be irritated when she was smiling? "Quite correct, my lady. He's been very hospitable, if a trifle opinionated — without him, I could not have been nearly so thorough in your healing."

"Then I give my dearest thanks, to you and to Gentlesir Oak Tree, and my admiration of a greatly-envied talent." She reached over his shoulder to give the oak's trunk a gentle pat. "I fear I must leave soon; there is something telling me I am not to be here when… when I sleep again."

Tuxedo Kamen felt his heart throb almost painfully in his chest. "You do not have a life beyond this?"

"Nay, I am awakened when it is my time to fight," Sailormoon looked solemnly at him. "I am glad I do not have to do it alone."

He shook his head slowly, disbelieving that the sweet-faced seraph before him was called into being merely for the concept of violence and death. "As am I, my lady. How long have you been –?"

"Aware? Yesterday - the first time I saw you – and now, today. I feel like a newborn in the world, yet my abilities, pardon any immodesty, and the knowledge I possess of things about me, speak differently."

"That they do," he frowned, eyes closing briefly in thought. "I am in much the same… situation as you are." They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Sailormoon giggled suddenly.

"Although I cannot quite understand why exactly you decided to throw a computer monitor at that – Jadeite, was it? – rather than one of your own roses," she grinned impishly up at him, a teasing light in her eyes.

Kamen flushed lightly. "My roses, swift and deadly as they are, will only make so much of an impression unless they are very correctly 'placed'; much like the effect a thrown blade has against that of a hurled anvil, for back of a better analogy." He ventured a sheepish smile. "Also, I do not think I was in quite the right mindset."

Sailormoon nodded in understanding and winced suddenly. "The call grows ever stronger," was all she said as she stood gracefully. "I must leave now –"

"As must I," he replied softly, also rising. "But –" he was abruptly silenced as her soft body pressed intimately against his and a pair of silken lips brushed tantalisingly against his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. As sudden as the contact came, it was gone, and she saluted him gaily before leaping away and out of sight.

Stupefied, Kamen brought a gloved hand to where she had kissed him. The gentle breeze that shook the tree's branches sounded very much like a fleeting chuckle.

_: She is quite the lady. :_

Tuxedo Kamen shot an ironic glance at the tree trunk before shaking his head ruefully, limbs feeling strangely languid as he stared dreamily into the distance. "That she is," he replied softly.

* * *

**Glossary**

**fuku — uniform. Jikkan-chan generally calls the 'battle uniform' a 'seerafuku' to distinguish it from the school uniform.**

**domo arigatou gozaimasu — the most formal, earnest thank-you Jikkan-chan knows. Mamo-chan must've been looking very hard for those books, ne?**

**gomen nasai — a more formal apology than 'gomen' or 'gomen ne'; 'I'm very sorry'.**

**sensei — 'teacher' or 'doctor'; literally 'one who is born first' and therefore wiser than the speaker. May be used as a name suffix.**

**-senpai — one who has been in an organisation of which the speaker is a member longer than the speaker, and therefore a superior; in this case, an upperclassman.**

**neko — cat.**

**Shitennou — 'The Four Heaven Kings', aka the Dark Kings/Generals of the Dark Kingdom/'Negaverse'. Jadeite, Nephrite, Zoicite and Kunzite ('Malachite').**

**sarabada — 'farewell'. Tuxedo Kamen's favourite word.

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**A/N: Also, the titles Ami carried around in this chapter... well, they're real. So this will be some kind of disclaimer: I don't own the titles on Quantum Physics... Now, review please, or we shall feel very unhappy and neglected and you don't want that, now, do you/grins/  
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	4. Utagai wo Idaku

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A/N: Jikkan-chan means to become a translator, so snaps up every chance of Japanese instruction she gets; so far her college has let her take Beginning and Intermediate classes. According to her, I keep her on her toes demanding translations and grammar instruction, which is at least far cheaper than her other means of maintaining her comprehension levels – taking Beginning Japanese more than once gets a little expensive, you know…**

**Anyway, this chapter was originally supposed to have a huge bingbangbambam!drama in it, but it became ever-so-long… so we put it in the next chapter. /beams/ Also, thank you everyone for your reviews! Since you guys managed to leave over thirty of them for our last chapter, Jikkan and I are hoping that the tally will reach a hundred. Currently, we have seventy-one, so only another twenty-nine reviews will be 'needed'. **

**Please? We think of them as the harvest we worked so hard upon… /cue pathetic look/ but we want more. /hopefully/ Is that too much to ask? One or two lines telling us which was your favourite part, and which part you thought a little too iffy.**

**Now that the grovelling-for-reviews bit is over (something the slightly-more-dignified Jikkan leaves to her shameless imoutochan), this chapter is dedicated to _Sumiko Kenchi Haimoto_ and _Lina_, whose observations had Jikkan and me grinning madly. Thanks, you two!**

**Due to Jikkan-chan's five-day absence and the start of school for me, I'll have to bow my head and warn you that our next chapter might be delayed from its weekly update. We've got some of it written, and plenty planned, but give us time, minna-chan!

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**III – Utagai wo Idaku**

_**To Harbour Suspicions

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'_It still astounds me – I who have lived countless millennia and witnessed the births and deaths of deities – when I look upon my King and Queen and see a bond so infallible it transcended time, distance and even death. When one was upset, the other calmed them. When one was hurt, the other tended to them. When one was lost, the other counselled them. They supported each other always. Neither the soul bond, Endymion nor Serenity would permit it otherwise._'

– Sailorpluto of the Outer Senshi; Guardian of the Time Gate

* * *

'_That ceiling is annoyingly white,_' was Usagi's first and admittedly rather aimless thought when she woke in the infirmary; eyes blinking rapidly as they tried adjust to the glare of sterile white walls and bed linens. She felt strangely content for a moment before she looked over at the next bed and discovered, to her consternation, a shock of untidy black hair and strong, chiselled features.

"Mamo-chan!" she shrilled, bolting out of bed and throwing herself across his unconscious figure.

Mamoru woke with an oof and smiled breathlessly as she burrowed into his chest, body positioned above him protectively. "Tenshiko?"

"Hai, Mamo-chan. What are you doing in here?"

He blinked, looked around at the infirmary, and let out a groan of dismay. "I don't know – I hate this place, I want _out_…"

Usagi slid off the bed and brushed several errant bangs out of his eyes. "You're not going out until we find out what's wrong with you –"

She didn't know why he paled, but Naru's worried voice cut through her thoughts. "Usagi! What are you doing out of bed?"

Mamoru shot Usagi a reproachful stare. "You never mentioned that you were in here as well…"

"Anou… I didn't have time?" she grinned sheepishly.

"In any case, _you_, Tsukino-san, will get _back _into bed, and _stay_ there!" bellowed Nurse Kakkou, a formidable matron who loved nothing more than mothering her patients to death. The three students sweatdropped simultaneously and Usagi flung herself into bed, pulling the sheets over her head and reducing herself to a quivering lump under the covers.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Tsukino!" Kakkou huffed, and stalked over to take a weakly-resisting Mamoru's temperature. "Hold _still_, Chiba!" He stopped fidgeting, and Usagi sat up, stifling a giggle.

"Usagi," Naru whispered taking her best friend's hand. "Usagi-chan, I was so scared…"

Usagi cocked an eyebrow questioningly, laughter slowly fading from her eyes. "Naru-chan, what's wrong?"

Naru took a deep breath. "The school… some kind of monster attacked the second period Psychology class; another like the one at Mama's shop, I think."

Usagi paled; Mamoru shot her a concerned look, but was impeded by Kakkou's reprimanding jab with the thermometer. The nurse was not above bruising one's soft palate to make her point.

"Did…did anyone…?" Usagi faltered.

She shook her head. "No, thank God — just unconscious, again — but the computer lab was almost destroyed, and they're checking out the damage right now. Remember Mizuno Ami, the girl you introduced me to earlier today?"

"Yes, of course I remember Ami-chan —" Usagi's breath caught. "Oh, Kami,_ she_ had Psychology for second period! Is she all right?"

"A little tired and shaken, but she's all right, last I heard. She came in late to class and found all the students trussed up with scotch tape and tired to death — like at Mama's store, again — and poor Kawasemi-sensei pinned to his desk with paper-cutters and gagged with his own bow tie!"

At any other time, Usagi might have giggled — it all sounded so much like a scene out of some comic _mahoushoujo_ farce — but all she could think of was that moment in the jewellery shop, and the fake Osaka-san's talons. "What happened? Did she escape?"

"Iie, she was _rescued_. By someone called Sailormoon, who showed up and started fighting it — and then another girl came, Sailormercury, and a man who called himself Tuxedo Kamen. Ami said something about a 'beautiful soldier', but nobody's really sure what that means…"

"'A beautiful soldier,'" Usagi repeated softly, not noticing Naru's frantic motions. "Naru-chan, what —"

"Eh?" said Mamoru's voice in her ear. "A beautiful soldier?" He gave the redhead a reproachful look. "Naru-chan, what are you telling Tenshiko to give her such a white face?"

Both girls blanched at once. By some miracle, Mamoru had apparently missed the news of the attack on the OSA-P; if he had got wind of it, he'd have had Naru under the interrogator's lamp and Usagi muffled in cotton-wool long before now. Telling him about the attack on the Psychology class might be safe enough, but Usagi had never been able to lie to him in her life; he'd but to ask her why she was so upset and it would all come spilling out, will-she, nill-she.

"Eeto — mmrmph!" Usagi began hesitantly, only to have a thermometer thrust into her mouth.

"Hold still," Nurse Kakkou said shortly. "Honestly, Tsukino-san, you're as bad as Chiba — Chiba-san! When did I say you could get out of that bed?"

Mamoru gave Kakkou one of his most appealing looks. "I'm afraid I'm much too tall for that bed, sensei; my legs were cramping so horribly that I just had to get up. May I sit with Usagi and keep us both out of trouble?"

Nurse Kakkou melted immediately; not for nothing had Usagi once dubbed him '_Student Council President Chiba Mamoru, King of Moto Azabu and Pet of Every Teacher In Juuban-chou, Even The Ones Who Only Had Him In Third Grade_.'

"Well… I suppose it couldn't hurt, as long as Tsukino doesn't mind —" Usagi shook her head immediately; she'd never mind Mamo-chan's presence, even if he _was_ asking awkward questions. "— And you promise to sit quietly and _call me immediately_ if you feel light-headed again." A scuffle and slam in the other room heralded someone's arrival; the nurse sighed. "Busy, busy… Chiba-san, watch that thermometer for me and make a note of the result, won't you? I'll be right back." She bustled off.

Mamoru gave Kakkou an absent nod before he turned to pin Naru with his gaze. "Ne, Naru-chan? Since Tenshiko is occupied."

"I was telling Usagi about the monster that attacked Kawasemi-sensei's second period class and pretty much destroyed the computer lab, Mamoru-san," Naru told him, smiling a little nervously. "She got worried when she remembered Mizuno-san has that class, but everyone's going to be okay, so…"

"A _monster_?" Mamoru demanded. "What sort? What did it do?"

Naru took a deep breath, glad to be on a relatively safe topic. "Eeto… I haven't heard anything about what it looked like, but it beat up Kawasemi-sensei, tied up all the kids with tape and drained their energy — they're all at the hospital for that — made a mess of the lab trying to catch Mizuno-san, and then killed the rest of the room fighting three superheroes."

"Sou ka?" He checked his watch. "Tenshiko, the thermometer please," he said absently, and she handed it over. "Thank you. Demo — Tenshiko, you have Science second period, you shouldn't have been anywhere near the computer lab."

"I wasn't!" Usagi protested. "…I think."

"…you think?" Mamoru asked quietly. Usagi wondered if the tic was about to make its appearance.

"Well, hai," she said quietly. "I fainted in Science class, so I asked to go to the washroom… but I don't remember anything after that."

"— And when she didn't come back before the bell, Hachidori sent a hall monitor to check on her," Naru put in. "She'd collapsed on the floor in front of the stalls."

"I see." A strong arm snaked around Usagi's shoulders and pulled her back against Mamoru's chest. "Tenshiko, has Kakkou called Ikuko-mama yet?" His voice was utterly calm.

Usagi sighed. She hated it when he was so upset… not least because it seemed to scare the dickens out of everyone else, which made_ no_ sense. Mamo-chan was the sweetest boy in the world! "I don't know, Mamo-chan," she told him, snuggling back against him in hopes of making him feel a little better. "I only woke up about five minutes before you did…" She turned sideways in his arms and tilted her head back to pout up at him. "Don't worry so much, Mamo-chan! I'm _fine_."

"People who faint twice in less than an hour are not 'fine', Tenshiko." He tried to frown down at her, but was no more capable of resisting one of her pouts than she was of lying to him. His mouth tilted at one corner. "But you're going to insist on staying at school anyway, aren't you?"

Usagi rewarded him with a sunny smile. "Unless it involves me staying any longer in this bed than I have to, yes. Which, of course, means that you're staying, since you can't hover over me very well at home."

Mamoru gave a catlike shrug, but didn't bother to either confirm or deny this.

They sat in silence for a moment; Usagi rested her head against her best friend's chest and listened to his heartbeat. Another monster, threatening another one of her friends… and she'd fainted again, just at that time, and been found somewhere completely else — why was she doing these things? Why had she locked herself _in_ with the monster? Why had she asked to go to the _washroom_ instead of just going to the nurse's office?

Fear swamped her, potent and nameless; she clutched at his shirt, could feel him stiffen under her and pull her closer. He'd ask, soon… Naru-chan had made a good try, but Mamo-chan knew her by heart; he'd know that just hearing about the attack wouldn't be enough to make her pale so drastically.

He'd ask, and she'd tell him.

…She _wanted_ to tell him.

But he'd watch her so carefully after this, try to find out what was wrong — what if it happened again when he was nearby? The few things she remembered doing didn't make any sense — what might that 'other Usagi' do to him? What if he followed her to — wherever she went — and got hurt by a monster?

Her throat closed up at the thought, so tightly she could hardly breathe. She couldn't tell him, then — but — but it was _Mamo-chan_ —

He took a deep breath; the arm around her shoulders gave a gentle squeeze. "Tenshiko?"

Usagi burst into tears.

Part of her was aware that Naru was tugging at her hand, asking what was wrong; that Nurse Kakkou had poked her head in, tutted disapprovingly, and gone to fetch a box of tissues; that her arms were around Mamoru's waist and he was clutching her so close as to make breathing difficult — but that didn't matter. Nothing did, save for that steady heartbeat, the soothing whispers she felt as much as heard, his gentle hands in her hair.

Mamo-chan always made everything all right.

At last the flood eased, and he pulled away a little, blotting her tears with his handkerchief. "Feeling any better?" he asked gently, and she nodded a little. "Good. Now, care to share what that was about? Or was it just that you noticed my shirt needed watering?" His voice was light, but she couldn't miss the worry in his eyes.

She took a deep breath. "No, it — I just —" Why was this so hard? '_Just start somewhere!_' "Please don't be mad at Naru-chan!"

Mamoru stared down at her. '_Well, at least now he's confused instead of upset… mostly…_'

"Nani? Tenshiko, what on earth would I be angry with Naru-chan for?"

"Well…" Usagi paused to think about this. '_…what a good question._' "…I'm not sure why you'd be angry with her, actually, since I was the one doing it… I think," she added dubiously. "But Naru-chan's been walking on eggs since yesterday afternoon that you'd be downright homicidal —"

"_Usagi_!" Naru hissed, mortified, but Usagi hardly noticed; the fear and uncertainty was making her start to babble: "— which makes no sense at all because you're _Mamo-chan_ and you're so nice and kind and —"

"Absolutely scary where you're concerned," Naru muttered, unheard.

Mamoru had hushed Usagi by putting a finger to her lips; he took it away, now, and seemed to compose himself. "Don't rush so," he said gently. "Whatever it is, we'll find some way to fix it. I promise."

She gave him a watery smile. If anyone _could_ fix it, it would be Mamo-chan, strong and sure as the ground under her feet. "…there was another monster yesterday," she explained. "At the OSA-P, pretending to be Osaka-san."

His jaw tightened; he went very still in her arms. "I see," was all he said.

"Naru-chan and I got there just a little before ...whatever it was doing, came to a head — at least, I guess that's what happened, from what it said when all of a sudden everyone just… collapsed… but then it saw us, and it was like a horrible parody of Osaka-san saying hello, Mamo-chan, it said it was so sorry we had missed the party but that it was sure it could 'find room for us' and then it had these _claws_ and I remember being so sure we were going to die —"

'_Breathe, Tsukino, breathe. You're babbling again,_' she thought wildly. Mamo-chan's hands were so tight on her shoulders; when had they gotten there?

"— and then it was like I wasn't even me anymore, I was shoving Naru-chan out the door and telling her to run for help and then I locked it but _I was still inside_, Mamo-chan, I could have run with her but I didn't and I don't know why —"

The words were coming faster and faster now; she had to keep quiet so Kakkou didn't hear but hysteria was pushing the pitch of the whisper to something near a shriek. "I don't even know what _happened_, because all of a sudden everything went black and I woke up _in bed at home_!"

Mamoru was clinging to her now, one arm at her shoulders and one about her waist, so tightly she wondered if he thought she might disappear. '_He's trembling….?_' She buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed him in; trying to calm down, trying to reassure him she was there, she was still alive — either. Both. It didn't matter. '_Fire and sky…a summer breeze fragrant with roses…_'

He rested his chin atop her head, between her odangos, and breathed deeply; she wondered if he still thought she smelled like light. Whatever her scent now, the familiar pose was doing its work: the tightness in his body was starting to ease, her own rapid heart beginning to quiet.

"Tenshiko," he whispered huskily. He made as if to speak again, but paused. "Tenshiko," he repeated.

"Mamo-chan," she replied softly.

"I – I need to think some things over," he said lowly, eyes half-shut. "I'll tell you later, ne?"

"You're not angry with me, are you?" she asked timidly. "You're not just saying that to –"

"Iie, _iie_!" Mamoru tightened his embrace almost painfully before releasing his hold on her to stand shakily. "Tenshiko, I'm going to see the Principal – I'd like to know a little more about this attack – perhaps I'll speak to Mizuno-san…"

Usagi opened her mouth to speak, and that was when Kakkou came bursting in again. "Chiba-san?"

"Anou… Nurse, I was hoping to make a quick trip to the principal's office –"

She blinked dazedly at him for a moment before letting out a rare bark of laughter. "How convenient that he's just sent for you, then."

Mamoru raised an eyebrow. "He has?"

Kakkou looked rebellious. "Much as I'd like to keep you for at least a nap until lunch, the student body requires the reassuring presence of its President." She frowned darkly at him. "But I want you _off _your feet as much as possible, and _no sports practice _for the next week."

"Kakkou-sensei, the swimming team has tryouts tomorrow; as the captain, I have to be there," he pointed out mildly.

"Oh, very well — but no participation or I'll have your ears, captain or no captain. Go on, get out of my infirmary and make room for the sensible patients," she growled at him.

"Domo arigatou, sensei — Oh, before I forget: Usagi's temperature was 37 degrees Celsius." He gave her the thermometer and turned to the girls on the bed. "I'll see you at lunch, you two. Tenshiko …" his eyes met Usagi's, and she bit her lip at the haunted look in his eyes. "…Kiotsukete, ne? Be careful of yourself."

Any other time, she might have teased him for that — but not now.

'_If this goes on…_'

Maybe not ever again.

"Hai, Mamo-chan. I promise."

* * *

'_It can't be coincidence,_' Mamoru thought darkly for what had to be the hundredth time, striding purposefully through the crowded hallways as the throngs of students parted respectfully for him to pass by. '_There was a monst – a youma attack at the jewellery store, and at the same time, I pass out… and… Tenshiko too?_' He retrieved his bento from his locker and looked around; Usagi was nowhere to be seen, although Naru was also taking a packaged lunch from her locker not two feet away from Mamoru himself.

"Mamoru-senpai!"

Mamoru's eyes glazed over as he continued to ruminate, staring blankly at the inside of his locker door where his spare blazer and uniform hung, along with extra sports gear. '_Then, at approximately the same time as the youma attack earlier today, both Tenshiko and I black out again…_'

"Mamoru-senpai!"

'_Tenshiko and I are linked to the youma somehow; perhaps we sense some kind of force they give off and then faint? That has got to be it,' he concluded, but his brow furrowed once more as another thought struck him. 'That doesn't explain how we kind of sleep-walk around, though… and why Tenshiko decided to lock herself in with the youma instead of running away from it for some help! Really, that girl –_'

"MAMORU-SENPAI!" a familiar voice bellowed into the tall upperclassman's ear, and Mamoru whirled around in alarm, an arm raising itself instinctively into a 'strike' position before he sighed in mixed annoyance and amusement.

"Asanuma-kun –" he began tiredly, but was quickly interrupted by another, equally boisterous voice chiming in as both juniors latched onto his arms and proceeded to drag him outside. "Kobayashi-kun…"

"Mamoru-kun!" Motoki came running up, his sciences folder tucked under his arm. "Why weren't you in Biology earlier?"

Mamoru closed his eyes and blew the bangs out of his face, a sure sign of irritation; even Ittou Asanuma the bouncy and Seiko Kobayashi the hyper recognised the signs and immediately let go of him. "Domo, gentlemen; can we go sit down first, onegai? And I was in Inuwashi-sensei's office discussing the attack –"

"On the Computer wing? Hai, I've been by: it's a mess." Mamoru cocked an eyebrow at his blond friend, who returned the gaze innocently. Kobayashi and Asanuma had already raced on ahead. "Nani?"

"Students aren't supposed to be there, Motoki," Mamoru pocketed his reading glasses, belatedly realising that he still had them on. "How did you get past the tape about three classrooms away from the computer lab in question?"

Motoki shot Mamoru an exasperated glance. "Does it really matter, Student President-sama?"

Chuckling, Mamoru shook his hair out of his eyes again. '_I really need to get a haircut…_' "Iie, but the tape's there for a reason. You're lucky the teachers didn't catch you to give you detention or something; your 'tousan would be steamed if you couldn't show up for your shift at the arcade."

"Urusai, baka," Motoki grumbled good-naturedly as they neared the familiar grove on the far side of the basketball courts. Kobayashi and Asanuma were already there, the former trying desperately to catch the attention of a prim junior by the name of Keishuu Saori by throwing green acorns at her and the latter flirting playfully with a bright-eyed Usagi and giggling Naru.

Motoki plonked himself next to Asanuma, who immediately grabbed the senior's bento and shook it experimentally. "'Toki, what've you got in here?"

Mamoru had to smile. Motoki and Asanuma were quite similar, really; both had dark blond hair and green eyes, though Motoki's were more gold-green as opposed to Asanuma's emerald. '_They could pass for brothers,_' Mamoru mused, seating himself next to Usagi and greeting her with a gentle tug on one of her golden ponytails. "How are you feeling, Tenshiko?" he asked softly. "No dizzy spells? Any light-headedness? Nausea?"

Usagi took his hand and squeezed it gently before digging around in her bag and coming up with a dark blue handkerchief. "_Iie_, Mamo-chan, nothing; Nurse Kakkou kept me in bed until about ten minutes ago." She gestured for him to bend down and he obeyed, allowing her to tie the makeshift bandanna about his head, holding the unruly locks back from his face. "That's better," she surveyed him approvingly. "You really need a hair cut, Mamo-chan."

"Iie! He looks dashing like that… like a pirate!" Asanuma crowed, batting his eyelashes at a blushing Mamoru. "Or… or, a gypsy! A cowboy… demo… those wear hankies around their _necks_, ne?"

"A handsome one," Kobayashi agreed breathily, clasping his hands together under his chin even as he affected a starry-eyed expression. "Who will whisk Usagi-chan away into the sunset and have his _wicked_ way –" he shut up abruptly as a particularly fat acorn dropped out of the oak they were sitting beneath, bouncing off his forehead with an audible _thunk_.

As Usagi, Naru and even staid Saori burst out into laughter at the impeccable timing, Usagi's face decidedly redder than the other two, Mamoru heard a faint chuckle and looked quizzically up into the branches above them. Usagi calmed down when he continued to stare unrelentingly at the dark foliage. "Mamo-chan? What are you looking at?"

He tore his gaze away from the boughs above him and smiled distractedly at Usagi, one hand coming up to rake through his hair before stopping as he remembered the bandanna. Unwilling to untie it, as it _was_ doing its job and Tenshiko tended to be right about these things, he settled for staring quizzically at his hands. "Thought I heard someone in the tree," he said absently. "The wind, I suppose — it almost sounded like laughing."

"Ha, you see?" Kobayashi crowed. "Not even trees are proof against my scintillating wit!"

"But it was laughing _at_ you, not _with_ you, Kobayashi-senpai," Naru teased.

"Alas! Alack! I am struck!" the junior groaned, and mimed clutching at a fatal arrow. "The fair lady has slain me!" He collapsed and lay writhing for a moment before crawling over to Saori, moaning piteously all the while. "Soft, what light through yonder window — gomen ne, wrong play — Keishuu-dono, have pity on a poor dying rurouni and let him perish with his head in your lap?"

He clutched at his chest with both hands and fell forward with a final heart-rending sigh —

— to be halted by a firm, no-nonsense hand in the face; Saori held him at arm's length with her left hand and coolly examined the nails of the other, the very image of a bored policewoman on crossing guard duty. "I would recommend instead that you find your final rest atop your schoolbooks, Seiko-san," she said calmly. "Perhaps then you might be reborn as one who has some chance of passing his entrance exams?"

Reactions to this comeback varied greatly: Motoki choked on his baloney sandwich and keeled over; Naru spit-took her Pocari Sweat directly into Kobayashi's face; Usagi clumsily attempted to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on the gasping Motoki, laughing all the while and Asanuma produced a strip of paper with its ends stapled together, dropping it unceremoniously on Saori's flawlessly groomed hair before prostrating himself at her sensibly-shod feet to proclaim her Queen of the Day and promise his everlasting love and devotion to 'so wondrous a woman'.

Saori, of course, brushed off the crude paper crown and nudged the grovelling blond away with the tip of a perfectly blacked shoe. "Forgive me if I refuse the honour of being crowned a Queen," she informed a mock-sobbing Asanuma, "if all it achieves is having empty-headed courtiers – that would be better off studying than indulging in such melodramatics – thrown at my feet."

The little stand of trees echoed a resounding '_oooh_' of mock-sympathy before its occupants burst into laughter. "_Buuuurn_!" they chorused gleefully.

Asanuma sniffed disparagingly and stalked off, only to pause at a still-choking Motoki's side, Usagi still pumping forcibly at his stomach area. "Motoki, dearest one," he mourned, ignoring the increasingly vivid shade of purple-blue the older blond was turning, "please, in light of my recent rejection, grant me the honour of performing the Kerdy-plummy whatsit on you?"

It was amazing, really, Mamoru reflected with a grin, how far a piece of half-chewed baloney could fly when its would-be consumer dislodged it forcibly from some way down the trachea.

"It's called Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, 'Numa-baka," a gasping Motoki informed the now-teary Asanuma shrilly. "And I didn't need any mouth-to-mouth! I needed the Heimlich!" He glared sourly at the rest of the grove's occupants, who were nearly hysterical with mirth by that point. "And please, you have my thanks – for _nothing_! I could have choked to death back there!"

Mamoru shook his head. "If you'd lost consciousness, one of us would have come over to help Usagi."

Motoki stared. "Oh. _Oh_. Well, I feel so reassured that my _best friends_ would allow me to die –"

Usagi spoke up, voice contrite. "Gomen ne, 'Toki-niikun… I should have tried harder."

"Iie, Usagi-chan, no worries." Motoki sighed gustily, and quailed in response to a warning glare from a suddenly ominous-looking Mamoru. "I swear, though, I saw my life flash before my eyes…"

Mamoru rolled his eyes, but allowed himself a smile. It was rather funny, after all … and such a relief to see Tenshiko so bright-eyed and cheery, when just this morning she'd been crying so hard —

He was jolted from his increasingly-dark thoughts by a loud cry from Kobayashi, who, it seemed, had finally emerged from his stupefied trance and was now protesting his treatment at the hands of Saori and the others, not least his recent shower by the ice-cold sports drink.

"Just like a woman," he declaimed, mopping his face with his handkerchief, "to harp on about a man's faults and flaws!"

Mamoru winced in anticipation, and was not disappointed; the foolish junior was promptly set upon from three sides. Saori's glare could have frozen a temple fire, and her sharp intake of breath did not speak well for Kobayashi's fate; Naru was clearly intent on a more physical reprimand, her hand already gripping the older boy's collar and her can of Pocari Sweat ready to share more of its bounty.

Usagi was just beginning to rise to her feet, but Mamoru knew the look in her eyes quite well; perhaps Kobayashi should be grateful for the delay —

"_Itai_!"

— and the oak tree was once again the first to reprimand, dropping a tight cluster of sharp-looking green acorns directly upon the crown of the junior's head.

: _No respect for women, this one, _: someone said in Mamoru's ear.

"Too true," Mamoru answered with a chuckle at Kobayashi's expense. A squeak of dismay, however, made him look over at Usagi, who had gone very still and was giving him an unhappily reproachful look.

"Y — you agree with him?" Her gaze sharpened even further and he flinched. "Mamo-chan, _hidoi_…"

Cruel? Tenshiko was calling him _cruel_? And Motoki and Naru were staring at him as if he'd developed lavender spots; Naru was so surprised by whatever she thought she had heard that she entirely failed to notice she was pouring into Kobayashi's lap what she had meant to dump over his head. Asanuma, Saori, and Kobayashi, at least, were mercifully oblivious; Saori having broken open a copy of Pride and Prejudice, ignoring Kobayashi's subsequent howl at the cold in his trousers and Asanuma's snide comments.

Mamoru wracked his brain for anything he might have agreed with lately. "…what, that Kobayashi has no respect for women? He _could_ be a little more considerate…"

To his relief, the hurt look vanished; to his discomfiture, however, it was replaced by a look of utter confusion. "…But, Mamo-chan, nobody said anything like that…"

…they hadn't?

'_Well. That certainly explains why the Best Friend Contingent is staring as if they just noticed I'm a space alien._'

"…Are you sure? I could have _sworn_… " He tried to rake his hand through his hair, was once again foiled by Usagi's handkerchief, and settled for tucking a stray curl behind Usagi's ear. "Laughing trees, now this…"

"Mou, now we_ know _you're working too hard," she teased, and he allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief at her returning smile.

"Hai, hai," Motoki added. "I know you talk to your roses, Mamoru-kun, but that's the first time I've heard you claim your garden could talk back."

Naru giggled and returned her attention to a complaining Kobayashi, who was doing a decidedly undignified jig as he held a handful of wet material away from his crotch. "Itai-itai-itai-itai-i_tai_," he moaned, wriggling unashamedly. Mamoru quickly clapped a callused hand over Usagi's interested eyes, turning her head away with the same motion.

"Does anyone have a spare pair of trousers they can lend Kobayashi-kun?" he questioned, ignoring a squirming Usagi, who was trying to remove the hand obscuring her vision. Motoki was the only one who nodded, but added that it was in his bag, and very wrinkled. Sighing in resignation, Mamoru picked Usagi up, bridal-style, and walked away with her. "Tenshiko and I'll get a pair of clean ones for you, 'Yashi-kun. Just wait there _still_ and _silent _and we'll be back in no time."

When the duo had crossed the basketball courts, Asanuma whipped out a small notebook and pen and clucked his tongue while surveying everyone over an invisible set of spectacles. "Right! Who else wants to place a bet?"

"I want to change mine," Motoki said mournfully. "At this rate, they'll never get together, and I'll be out five thousand yen!"

Saori removed her own pair of reading glasses and shot Asanuma and Motoki frigid glances. "Might I ask exactly _what_ is going on here?"

"Keishuu-joou! Onegai, would you like to place a bet on our most esteemed destined-for couple?"

Naru chimed in. "How come _I_ wasn't told about this? I think it'll be after Christmas and before Mamoru graduates. Put me down for eight thousand yen."

Asanuma scribbled it in busily. "Gurasu's out of the running; he said that he thought they'd get together by the time school started again. At least he only lost two thousand yen. Hakura said they'd get together during the first school dance, which is only two weeks away. She still has a chance. If not, then she's out seventy-five hundred yen." The jokester cackled before a cool voice halted his insane laughter in its tracks.

"Put me down for twelve-thousand yen," Saori replaced her glasses and went back to her book amidst a sea of dropped jaws and gaping eyes.

Numbly, Asanuma wrote down the sum and stared blankly at it. The dumbstruck silence was broken by a whoop from Kobayashi who had grabbed Saori and was pulling her into a mad sort of dance, declaring that "Saori-sama's queen! Saori-sama's queen!"

Several passing juniors shook their head at the sight. "I seriously wonder about that lot sometimes…"

"Why does Chiba-senpai hang out with them, anyway?"

"Usagi-chan, _that_'s why; everyone knows that."

"Hmph. I should've known… seriously, why doesn't he just date her and put all of us girls out of our _misery_…"

"I guess even perfect guys can be completely oblivious."

"Thick-headed is more like it."

"Eh. Same difference."

* * *

Mamoru let Usagi down and brushed her off lightly. She caught his hand and looked searchingly at him. "What is it, Mamo-chan?" 

He let his hand fall and sighed. "You know me too well," he said quietly.

She shrugged. "You couldn't have been really that concerned with me seeing Kobayashi-kun like that, because I've seen you naked before," she pointed out matter-of-factly, smiling at the light blush blossoming in his cheeks. "And then you don't need help to transport _one _pair of trousers from your locker to 'Yashi. Usually, you'd just parade him over – for your own amusement rather than the student body's – and have him change in the bathroom, if not right in the hallway." She shot him a quick smile before sobering again.

"Demo, you didn't. So it's either because you're worried about me fainting again when you're not there or because you wanted to say something to me."

Mamoru stared at her for a moment before laughing softly. "You know me too well," he repeated. His face hardened. "It's about you – and me – and the blackouts." He went on to explain his suspicions; that they were in some way connected to the youma.

"What about our… anou, sleepwalking?"

Mamoru shook his head regretfully. "I really don't know… and I won't lie to you; I'm worried. Maybe something draws us to the youma, and they… kind of…" he shook his head. "I don't know," he repeated frustratedly, yanking open the locker and retrieving a pair of charcoal-grey uniform trousers.

Usagi placed a small hand on his shoulder, calming him. "I – _we_ will make it through. We'll find out what's going on and then everything'll be all right again."

Mamoru wrapped an arm about her shoulders, squeezing gently. "When you're around, Tenshiko," he sighed, "everything _is_ all right."

She giggled. "How very corny."

"True, though," he took one of her tiny hands and placed a feather-light kiss on the back of it. "C'mon, Seiko's 'little man' is probably permanently wrinkled and cold by now."

Usagi shot him a half-reproachful, half-scandalised glance, but her eyes were full of laughter. "Mamo-chan!"

"Gomen ne," he grinned unrepentantly. After all, anything that made her smile should not be apologised for. "Let's go."

* * *

His breathing was laboured, the agony in his side reaching an unbearable peak. He had to stop.

Limping painfully over to the nearest wall, Jadeite leaned against it, hating the dead silence that hung in the black-stoned halls of Beryl's domain. When he opened his eyes again he realised he must have lost consciousness for a while, because a cool hand was touching his forehead, and he looked into concerned grey-blue eyes.

"Neph?" it came out as a croak, and Jadeite coughed, his numb legs giving way as he slid bonelessly down the wall. Nephrite wrapped a sturdy arm around the shorter man, starting as he felt the blond flinch away. Readjusting his grip so that he supported Jadeite as painlessly as possible, the Star Shitennou felt the blood pounding in his ears as he contemplated the injured man beside him.

"Yes, it's me," Nephrite replied belatedly, reaching up again to feel Jadeite's forehead. He swore at the clammy feel of the unnaturally pale skin and inclined his head ever-so-slightly so that his stormy gaze met a glazed cobalt one. "What happened?"

The blond opened his mouth to reply but coughed once more, turning his face from that of his brother and wheezing into a white-gloved hand. Bringing it away from his face, Jadeite's expression tightened as he saw droplets of rusty-red phlegm dotting the pale leather.

Nephrite saw it too, and an angry beast uncoiled low within his belly. "Who did this? Did Beryl call you up for more punishment? _Who did it_?"

A grim smile turned the corners of Jadeite's mouth upwards. "Me," he muttered. "It was _me_; Gaia's mercy, I was so _stupid_!"

The wind taken out of his sails, Nephrite gaped for a moment more before shutting his mouth, confusion entering his eyes. "You –"

"– Failed to get the energy? Yes. Had something big and heavy thrown at me? Yes. Will soon be in a world of even more hurt? Yes. I should have just _finished _her and be _done _with it…"

"What? You _spared _her?"

"Hardly," Jadeite spat, lip curling derisively. "I had her in my power, vulnerable and weak…"

Nephrite felt as if someone had struck him hard in the gut. "You didn't!"

"I did," Jadeite squeezed his eyes shut before opening them. They were strangely bright, and filled with a strange light. "One quick twist of the wrist would have snapped her pretty little neck like a twig." He paused a moment, taking a few tentative steps forward, and doubling over as the pain in his side intensified. "_Ahhh…_"

Nephrite gritted his teeth, eyes sliding shut as he clumsily lifted a finger to his temple to send a telepathic message to the other two Shitennou. Beryl had obviously forsaken Jadeite in his failure once more; he was not healing as he should have been and although Nephrite knew a little of first aid, he could not do much for the way his brash, hurt companion was bleeding inside. Only Zoicite could do anything to help now. "Brother…"

"That's right." Jadeite let out a half-hysterical laugh. "I don't know what's happening to me… I hurt her needlessly, Neph. She might be the enemy, but I don't remember torturing them before killing them. What's more, I enjoyed it! I never…"

"You had a man warned and later beaten when he used pain as an interrogation tool," Nephrite recalled quietly. "I remember that, now.'

Jadeite bowed his head, eyes closing once more as fatigue assaulted his limbs. "I never…"

"You're starting to repeat yourself," Nephrite teased gently, trying not to let the worry coursing through him show in his voice.

"I – I…" Jadeite inhaled deeply and Nephrite flinched at the rattling sound he made in doing so. "I don't like what's happening to me, Neph. What's going on? I don't want to regain my honour by losing my soul…"

"You won't," the auburn-haired man promised, almost sagging in relief as he felt Zoicite's presence drift closer. "And you don't need to talk about it if –"

"I think we knew her," Jadeite's tone was disconcertingly dreamy, almost as if he was speaking from a distance. "We knew her, and we knew her well… perhaps we were friends before Selenity issued the order for the Gates to be barred and our families perished under the Eclipse…"

He sagged then and as Nephrite supported him gingerly, waiting for the others to arrive; he found his mind was full of haunting melodies and a pair of forbidding sapphire eyes.

* * *

He didn't know why he awakened then, but as was his first instinct, he reached out for Serenity through their bond. She was asleep; drowsing peacefully in dreams that he couldn't see or feel. He would have withdrawn then, if he hadn't felt her soul taste strangely fragmented. Panicking, he plunged down the bond, following the thread of silver and gold until he came up against a wall he could not pass.

He rammed his consciousness against it over and over again until he felt it crumble just a tiny bit and her awareness flare slightly in response, informing him she was now awake. Passing effortlessly through the wall and halting but two paces from him, she raised a trembling hand so that it pressed gently against his chest.

Without the presence of his usual black battle armour, she could feel his heart beating for her and he lifted a sword-callused hand to cover her smaller one, dark eyes watching her intently. Her lavender-blue ones grew moist as she continued to gaze at him, drinking in every feature of that beloved face until she could bear it no longer and stepped daintily forward, forgoing all dignity and decorum to lean into his strong embrace.

'_At long last…_'

* * *

**_Glossary_**

**_Mahoushoujo _— literally, 'magical girl'. A popular genre in _shoujo manga_ (girl's comics); Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon is more or less the primary (perhaps even the uniting/founding) example of the class. Jikkan-chan is perhaps a little too fond of making her characters commit unwitting irony. **

**_Juuban-chou _— the neighbourhood of Juuban, the part of Tokyo where the characters all live.**

**_eeto _— an interjection: 'let me see; well; err…'**

**_sou ka — _an interjection meaning, more or less, 'is it so?' Jikkan-chan is perhaps too fond of a phrase she knows only by context, but when the shoe fits…**

**_demo _— a conjunction: 'but; however; even'**

**_kiotsukete _— 'take care; be careful'**

**_-senpai _— senior (at work or school)**

**_-dono — _Special Reference Definition! 'Dono' is a polite suffix generally translated in anime as Lord or Lady name. 'Yashi-kun is referencing the shounen (boy's) manga _Rurouni Kenshin_, by addressing Saori as 'Keishuu-dono' the way Kenshin refers to Kaoru as 'Kaoru-dono' and by calling himself a _rurouni_ (see next def).**

**_rurouni _— Special Reference Definition! Yashi is calling himself a wanderer, specifically a wandering samurai, as Kenshin; this is similar to _ronin_, masterless samurai. (Trivia: A _ronin_ in modern use is a student who should be in university but failed his entrance exams, which is why Saori's comment was so very devastating :)**

**_hidoi _— 'cruel; awful'**

**_-joou _— Queen. The use of it as a suffix may be slightly erroneous, but Jikkan-chan has heard kings referred to as _Name-ou_ (King Name) before, so decided to take the liberty.**

**_onegai _— 'please'

* * *

A/N: Again, review please! The rest of the glossary is in our profile, or in previous chapters.

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	5. Rooyaru Shoukan

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A/N/bows head despondently/ Gomen, gomen, gomen _nasai_, minna! It's just that between Jikkan-chan's trip to AnimeFEST and school starting again for me, we've been a little... anou, quiet. Still, the chapter's done, we'd appreciate it if you'd review and _we have one hundred and two now! _/capers madly with Jikkan-chan/ Yay! We'd really appreciate it if the review count bounced up to a hundred and twenty-five, or better yet, a hundred and thirty! **

Please? Onegai, minna-chan... we slaved over it so hard... /sniffles/ The whip was used muchly...

Chapter dedication: NalaravatheRed, who was our hundredth reviewer! Thank you _so _very much!

And now, onto the story!

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**IV – Rooyaru Shoukan**

_**Royal Summons**_

* * *

'_It surprised me when I approached; her hair was not silver, but crystal tresses that reflected the moonlight. Each strand threw a tiny rainbow that enhanced her beauty to the point that I believed the very embodiment of the aurora borealis was walking among we mortals…_'

– Zoicite the Strategist; Comet Shitennou of the Four Brothers

* * *

"I've missed you so," she breathed, tears finally spilling over and wetting the customary black uniform he wore under his armour. 

He buried his face in crystal tresses, inhaling spring nights and wildflowers all at once. "As have I, koishii. It has been a long time…"

"I was sleeping," she murmured, not sure what exactly she was saying but desperate to explain why she had not been able to find him before now. "I was sleeping and dreaming; I kept dreaming of you, Endymion-saiai."

She felt him smile against her hair and shivered slightly when the infinitely soft petals of a rose brushed the sensitive skin on the back of her neck before being tucked into one of her buns. "No need to explain, my beloved, for Silence has always been our friend." He laughed softly, but his voice was thick when he next spoke. "I too have dreamed… dreamed of you and this strange world I have stumbled into."

"It is your world," she said quietly.

"No; it is my _earth_, my _planet_, my daughter and mother all at once. But it is not my world." He released her from his embrace to gesture helplessly about, and through the dim glow of the in-between place of their stunted bond, she could see his handsome features clouded by near-exhaustion. "The soil is tired; where there were once vast forests are buildings and stone-and-glass structures that have no business being here. The atmosphere is injured; there are noxious gases about, and the temperature is far warmer.

"My world was beautiful; vibrant and teeming with life of all kinds." He looked back down at her. "This world is tired, injured and unhappy as well as completely unappreciated by its inhabitants. The Old Lore has been lost with the Fall – men have forgotten their heritage as Sons of Earth, tenders to her and her children as well as the Golden Kingdom."

"You can feel all that?" she marvelled. "I myself can sense that things are not what once were –"

"I am linked to this planet so intimately that should I ask it, mountains will rise and oceans will swallow the land," he stated flatly.

She nodded and reached up with both hands to turn his face gently back towards hers. From seemingly nowhere she produced a circlet fashioned of what appeared to be braided crystal and, standing on her toes, placed it on his head, sliding it so it fit snugly about his crown. She lowered her eyes demurely at his startlement. "I made it from my hair, the eve of the Fall," she explained softly.

His eyes softened and he reached up to feel the wicked spikes protruding from the thin crown – half of them pointing upwards, the other half downwards. No king or prince after him would wear this royal symbol lightly, for it was made for he, and he alone, the sharp tips scarce brushing his dark hair. His fingers encountered four empty claw settings and he looked quizzically at her bowed head. "What are these?"

She smiled slightly. "They represent your court," she answered, "the Shitennou who are sworn to you. I also warded it so that none but you, and perhaps one of your lineage, may wear it."

"_Our_ lineage, dearheart," his mouth quirked then, and he withdrew a wreath of seven perfect roses, verdant stems and moon-white petals glowing softly with their own light. Seven pearls set among the blooms caught their light and held it, as the Earth drinks in the Sun's luminescence and reflects it for the sake of the Moon — but as her crown of swords, his circlet of roses was not defenceless: wicked glass thorns drew his blood as he set the wreath on her head.

"These seven roses came to me in a dream," he murmured, "where a woman of shadow and light bade me forge a crown for my queen, and the thorns would be turned from her sacred flesh and blood." He tapped the glass with a fingernail so that a pure note rang out musically and she removed the crown to examine it, eyes alight with wonder.

"Seven roses; seven pearls – is there a significant meaning to this?"

He brushed a callused hand down her silken cheek, eyes half-closing as she turned her face into his palm. "I could find no moonstones, and seven is a number of power. The pearls are special ones that you can tune to your magic, and they will provide extra warding against anyone but yourself wearing this."

She kissed him then, long and hard, slow and sensuous, and tore her lips away from his when the need for air became persistent to her body. He looked at her, almost surprised, before grinning boyishly. "How wanton you can be, my Serenity," he murmured, drawing her to him once more.

"I am called back to Dream," she told him breathlessly as they broke apart again. Indeed, he could see her fading, and it took twice as much effort to hold her now as it had a moment before… "But when I wake again, I shall summon my court – what of yours?"

He indicated the delicately-wrought circlet about his head, smiling sadly as her features became almost translucent, and he could only grasp at smoky folds of material. "I will call them now, while I am aware; when I wake properly, however, I shall begin my search for you and nothing, not even the sons of this twisted daughter-world of mine, will stand in my way."

He could feel her smile more than see it now, and the faint outlines of a pair of transparent lavender-blue eyes crinkled at him. "Do not remove the block – not yet," she breathed, sweet voice thin to his ears. "Trust in Time… aishiteru, my Endymion…"

"Watashi mo," he answered sombrely, and, sparing a last, half-hateful, half-despairing glance at the horrible wall separating him and his beloved, Endymion turned away, the weight of the crystal circlet feeling strangely heavy on his brow; reassuring in an almost agonisingly bittersweet way.

Endymion returned to the darkness and felt about until he encountered four other threads, frayed and thin compared to the golden-silver pulse of the link he shared with Serenity, even in its blocked state.

Remembering the way his four protectors had led Beryl's armies against the Silver Millennium, the ethereal prince's hands clenched and he wondered if he was doing the right thing, restoring a quartet of traitors to his side.

Then he recalled the flicker of horror in Kunzite's face as he fought Endymion himself, and the oddly relieved spark in the white-haired general's eye as his liege thrust the sword home. His mouth opened to begin the summons and then another image flickered into existence; Zoicite grabbing Serenity by a handful of crystal tresses, sword raised high before a blast of power from the Golden Crystal ended his life.

'_He would have killed Serenity,_' he thought, eyes closing in anguish or rage, he did not know… '_I was almost too late… will I risk her life once more?_'

Serenity appeared, smiling at him ever-so-gently, and he closed his eyes before beginning the song that would open the gates to his brothers' minds, more conscious than ever of the four empty settings in his crown; the crown that _she _had created with her own hands and of her own magic as well as of _her_, her own _hair_…

'_If they are still traitors, I will kill them myself._'

* * *

It was an eerie melody, sung by a bizarrely familiar tenor. A strange plucking tune harmonised with the long-dead language that the singer shaped with a clever tongue and led its audience – four men, brothers all – to a place where silence pressed in on all sides, the man's song the only thing keeping it at bay. 

Then the world exploded, darkness thrown into light by a figure clothed in armour that spat flames and sparks, jet-black hair whipping in the inferno even as tongues of hungry fire licked at each strand.

"_Brothers!" _the blazing entity thundered, golden fire streaming from his body as he raised a hand that crackled with sun-bright energy. They all cowered from him, pressing faces flushed with fear and awe to the earth below. _"Brothers!" _the man repeated, his voice like a dragon's roar, resounding in their minds and tearing through their souls. _"I, Prince of the Golden Heritage, call my brothers to me! Sun, Star, Comet and Space Avatars! Shitennou! Hear my summons and respond! Awaken! Come forth to claim thy place at my side!"_

Any one of the four generals who dared to raise their eyes again saw that he wore a crown of braided crystal with swords set in it. Half of those swords pointed upwards, half of them downwards, and four empty claw settings on the circlet's front lacked four stones.

"_Hear me, Shitennou …"_

A golden inferno consumed the figure, but not before the generals saw the features thrown into stark relief by the greedy flames.

"Endymion-sama!"

Four generals woke up with a start. "Prince…"

* * *

Endymion smiled tiredly, and closed his eyes once more. It was time to Sleep again, but when he next awoke… 

'_Just a little longer, koishii…_'

* * *

Mamoru rubbed his eyes with a sigh that was more laughter than despondence. It was strange; he had rested a full night, but his body was walking the thin line between exhaustion and collapse. His mind, however, was sharp, and something in him felt strangely vitalised. He would probably have been skipping if his body hadn't been loudly complaining that he wasn't still in bed. 

Shaking his head ruefully, he turned his attention back to the junior swim team tryouts, wishing desperately that his best friend was here to take a little of the pressure off his shoulders – it was a very simple procedure, really, choosing the members, but somewhat tedious and he couldn't help but think that he'd fall asleep long before everything was over. Usagi, however, as captain of the junior track and field team, was down at javelin tryouts.

He smiled softly, remembering how in only her freshman year, she beat and set several records in discus, high jump and every track race the school held. Due to the way she had gone through a sudden phase of clumsiness, she had klutzed out during her long jump and hurdle tryouts and had been too humiliated to do them over. It was amazing now, though, to watch her in action. Truly she lived up to the name 'bunny'; tiny, but _fast_.

Realising his thoughts had wandered yet again, Mamoru jerked to attention as he signalled the candidates, who had, by now, warmed up and were already in the water, watching him expectantly, to go. He would probably have slipped back into his stupor if he hadn't spotted a newcomer with blue hair cropped to her chin cut smoothly through the water with strong, swift strokes.

Eyes widening in delight and almost triumph, he laughed out loud, standing to lend her a hand out of the pool. He didn't even need to check again to know that she was almost three metres ahead of the next-fastest person.

"No doubt about it, Mizuno-san," he grinned, clapping a hand on her shoulder in congratulations. She blushed furiously, shooting a coy look from beneath navy lashes before lowering her gaze demurely.

"Will I be considered then?" she asked as soon as she had caught her breath. Mamoru shook his head almost embarrassedly at her modesty and covered his eyes in exasperation as he spotted a wild-eyed young man almost bouncing up to them.

"'Considered?' Mizuno, you aren't getting away!" Coach Umidori beamed from under his heavy brow as he did a little hop-skip routine. He was young in comparison to most of the other teachers at Moto Azabu, and as a result was far more light-hearted and ready to dispense with formalities and joke as well as use the students' given names.

"Perhaps we can wangle her into the senior team as well," the twenty-five-year-old continued, smirking. "Kami knows _some _people have been slacking off –" he shot a mock-meaningful look at Mamoru, who raised his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, pointing at himself and mouthing 'me?' "Hai, you, Mamoru-kun. Better start exercising again before I pronounce you too slow to pull your own weight, Captain!"

"Oi!" Mamoru laughed, tiredness falling away from his body as he turned back to the pool to time the others. He felt a distinct prickling at the back of his neck and his mirth faded slowly as keen dark eyes swept over the area.

Dismissing it, he muttered a string of words that would have made a sailor blush as he realised he'd missed about half the other candidates' times and putting the disconcerting feeling of being watched out of his head as he dealt with Coach Umidori's complaints.

* * *

"Now is not the time to be mooning about boys, Ami!" Luna admonished gently. "Senshi have a higher calling, and that is the calling of their Princess. No man should sway a Sailor Senshi from this objective, because no man is the equal of She." 

Ami, freshly scrubbed and glowing from her day's accomplishments, padded out of the shower and began to towel herself off fiercely. "Demo Luna-san! I just made the _senior_ _co-ed _swim team – is that not a thing to be proud of?"

Luna's cinnabar eyes softened noticeably. "Aye, a wonderful thing, but everything – and I _do _mean _everything _– comes second to the Princess."

Sighing, Ami propped her head with a hand. "It's very hard to think that way when I've never met her, don't remember _feeling _her the way you do. There's a longing in my soul I cannot fill, and it seems to have been that way forever."

The cat leapt lightly up beside the bluenette and nuzzled her reassuringly. "Perhaps I _am _quite remiss in being so harsh on you. I, too, feel the longing, and it is unfair of me to be so urgent. So far, there have been two strikes from the Dark Kingdom, and this Sailormoon… I do not understand her, nor her defender Tuxedo Kamen."

Ami giggled softly. "He's very handsome, though," she murmured as she opened her English text.

Luna flushed. "That's not – the point is that he could be a danger to our mission. There has never been a Senshi of the Moon before; she could be an enemy sent to lure us into a false sense of security – we trust in who we think is our ally, and they suddenly turn on us? We cannot take that risk, Ami."

The bluenette nodded sombrely. "Hai, hai… demo she _feels_ safe. She feels, anou, _familiar_."

Luna closed her eyes and nodded. "That is what I fear," she whispered. Shaking herself lightly, she continued to speak. "In your subspace pocket, there is a small hand-held computer. It can be used to scan enemies, to check the health of an ally and holds all the knowledge of the Silver Millennium as well as a Dark presence detector. Use it to identify Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen when we next battle, whether it's by their side or against them.

Ami, feeling cool metal beneath her fingers, nodded and stood to get ready for bed.

* * *

The blonde gazed into space, eyes of sky and sea clouded in thought as she dragged a thick, ivory-backed hairbrush through sun-gold tresses whose scent brought into mind harvest apples and autumn twilights. 

_Four…five…six…_

"She's somewhere out there, Artemis," the girl whispered. "Something's wrong, though – she feels… not whole. Fragmented; somehow flawed and splintered and broken."

_Twelve…thirteen…fourteen…_

Her white cat blinked slowly, feline eyes – eyes a shade that mirrored her own – reflective and holding a darkness indicating worry. When he spoke, it was with a husky, almost musical tenor. "Scion of Venus," he intoned quietly. "Avatar of Aphrodite; you remember the legend of the Moon Royals' heritage?"

_Twenty…twenty-one…twenty-two…_

She settled back, still counting rhythmic strokes, a small smile upturning the corners of delicate lips. "Tell me again," she half-requested, half-ordered, "as it is my favourite tale."

_Twenty-eight…twenty-nine…thirty…_

Artemis chuckled softly and padded over his charge, curling into her warm side. He recognised the faint lilt to her speech and knew it was the result of half-remembered court and etiquette classes coupled with her cultured upbringing. "Very well."

_Thirty-six…thirty-seven…thirty-eight…_

His voice took on the familiar timbre of a storyteller, pitched slightly deeper and resonating subtly. "Ye may know of the Queen Selenity, she of silver hair and lavender eye, daughter of Selene the Moon. Ye may know also of Selene's brother Helios, the Sun, and the scion who bears his name and badge and watches over Dream – but that is another story."

_Forty-four… forty-five… forty-six… pause to absently unravel a tiny snarl –_

"Her Royal Majesty was a daughter, but she had no father to call her own; none but the lunar dust her Mother had lovingly shaped with her own hands, mixed with many lonely tears shed over the perfectly sculpted features and body. Selene laboured over Her Selenity as Pygmalion did his Galatea, and in the end breathed life into the body so that Selenity might be Selene on the Moon and rule the people while the Goddess removed the combs that held Her hair in buns so that the infinitely fine, silver tresses – called moonlight by mortals – would reach the Earth's people, whom She did adore."

– _forty-seven… forty-eight… forty-nine…_

"When Selenity opened her eyes, Selene was overjoyed; Her radiance shone brighter than ever, and Terrans walked the night merely to bask in the brilliance of Her happiness. Before ascending to Her True throne where She would watch, guard and counsel for eternity, She granted Her daughter three things."

_Fifty-five… fifty-six… fifty-seven…_

"Grace of the body and of the mind, that she might rule her new people wisely and tenderly, was one. For her second gift, She reached into the plane of Illusions and withdrew a sentient relic of immeasurable might – something that did not quite magnify, but rather channelled and refined – the power of its wielder. It was called the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou; the Illusion Silver Crystal, Selene told Her daughter, and It would only find its true place by the true Lunar ruler's side. Lastly, Selene plucked the essence from the flower lavender, which She had always favoured above all, and placed it in the once-colourless orbs of Her daughter's eyes, granting her True Sight."

_Sixty-three… sixty-four… sixty-five…_

"I spoke true when I revealed the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou was sentient, for It housed a strange and terrible power: Chaos in its ultimate form, caged by crystal. Chaos within Order – Order within Chaos. A never-ending paradox, but one that – strangely – felt what its wielder felt, and loved Selenity dearly. As Selene had once been lonely, so Selenity now felt alone. Her people loved her, but she could not descend from the pedestal she had been placed on without betraying all she had been created and stood for. The Ginzuishou knew this, and raged that It could do no more for her, until one day…"

_Seventy-one… seventy-two… seventy-three… pause again, this time simply to listen intently –_

"It would give her a daughter, It decided, but despaired of the how – any daughter It could give her would be soulless crystal and illusions and chaos and order and _paradoxes._ Once again thwarted from Its desperate desire to please and Its promise, It resorted to Its Origins: that of the Illusion, for inspiration."

– _and continue; seventy-four… seventy-five… seventy-six…_

"How bitter Its despondence and fierce Its joy was when It could find no other way: the Ginzuishou would father the child, and she – for she would be a daughter, It knew – would grow within Selenity herself. But what of the serene royal's honour? Would she be scorned for mothering a child whose father would never be known?"

_Eighty-two… eighty-three… eighty-four…_

"No matter. A child would be perfect, and upon deciding, It manifested Itself as a man with forget-me-not eyes and crystal locks that split the light about Him so that it seemed He glowed gently with its very blessing."

_Ninety… ninety-one… ninety-two…_

"For nine hundred Terran years the seed It had planted within Selenity grew – for Its seed was cold with no potential and it takes many, many years for a new soul to be born – but nine hundred years passed quickly in the eyes of the Lunar people and their Queen, for they measured their lives in centuries and millennia. At last, a child was born – an honour your humble companion had the good fortune to witness – and she had solemn eyes of lavender-blue that loved everything they gazed upon, Her Royal Majesty's flawless features and the same unique crystal hair as her sire. They would have named her Aurora for her otherworldly beauty so enhanced by the ever-present glow of colour playing over her person, but the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou whispered in Selenity's ear that Its daughter was to be called Serenity, and Serenity she was."

_Ninety-eight…ninety-nine… a hundred_.

She set aside her brush and tossed her head so each individual golden strand caressed the air lightly before slender fingers combed through them once, twice, thrice, and then the same hands braided the long mane deftly before neatly tying it off with a red silk ribbon. "A beautiful story, Artemis," she stated with a wistful smile, "most artfully retold, and I _did _ask you to do so for mine ears – but where does it factor into everything?"

Artemis leapt from his position against her side on the armchair wing and curled up on her bed, head resting on his front paws and his tail tucked comfortably around him. "Your memories of the Fall –"

"Aren't the clearest," she finished quietly, climbing into bed next to him and moving the long plait so that it was out of her way before she snuggled under the covers. The faint orange glow about her faded as she reverted back to the persona of Aino Minako – England's very own Sailor V – and Sailorvenus of the Silver Millennium vanished. "But I know enough. I've known for –"

"Years, yes," Artemis nuzzled her arm comfortingly, belying his next blunt words. "But all of you were _dead_, and only Luna and I witnessed the True Fall, when Her Royal Majesty gave up her mortal life – and quite possibly immortal – for her subjects. She sealed Metallia away, aye, and Beryl too, but even goddesses pay a price when they interfere directly in the lives of mortal Destiny as the Queen did…"

Artemis sighed as he remembered a day a thousand years ago, eyes closing wistfully. "For seven days and seven nights, backed by the royals of the other planets' power, she gathered each innocent soul and laid them to sleep in a separate dimension that would only be unlocked by the Maboroshi no Ginzuishou's power when the young Princess was ready. Perhaps she was not at all unknowing of the true identity of He who fathered the young girl, for she inscribed upon the seal in words of ancient power: 'The Crystal Millennium, Her Royal Majesty Neo-Queen Serenity's subjects'…"

"Again, what does that have to do with this?" Minako interrupted testily. Her shoulders slumped a little and her eyes were downcast. "Sorry for snapping, Arty, but I just… she's out there! The fact that I can feel her means I should go to her!"

"Nay, you should wait." Artemis closed his eyes and appeared to doze, but he spoke again, tone serious. "She will summon you either way, and if she is fragmented… then Selenity has succeeded in her task, Selene rest her noble soul."

"The Queen is with the Goddess, right?" Minako prodded his lazy form gently, nose wrinkling. "Arty?"

He opened a vividly blue eye, and she could see his grief. "If only it were so… Her Royal Majesty has returned to the Moon from which she was born."

"Earth to earth," Minako whispered, recalling something the minister had spoken at 'her' great-uncle's funeral. "Ashes to ashes…"

"Dust to dust," Artemis nodded, a grim smile forming on his feline features. "For dust thou art and unto dust shalt thou return," he quoted.

"Where's that from?" Minako asked curiously.

"The Christian God is speaking to Adam after discovering he had consumed the apple of wisdom, which He had forbidden. The line I just spoke? Genesis 3:19, of the Bible."

"Is it really true?" Minako knew that during his millennium-long stint in stasis, Artemis had been an almost omniscient entity and walked the Realm of Knowledge in Dream – it was how he knew of the Moon monarchs' full heritage, after all. The cat shook his head and closed the eye again, sighing.

"There was an Adam and an Eve of sorts, in the Beginning," he twitched his whiskers and cleaned them thoughtfully before continuing to speak, "Adam was called Chaos, for he was male, and males were meant to be dominant in strength, war and conflict. Eve was called Cosmos, for she birthed Existence – the universe."

Minako prodded him. "You'll tell me this story too?"

Artemis opened both his eyes and chuckled, stretching luxuriously. "Not tonight, little love, because you have school tomorrow. It is already early, and what you felt from Serenity is passed by."

The blonde nodded reluctantly and closed her eyes. When Artemis was sure she was asleep, he slinked off the bed and his small form shimmered, limbs lengthening and _changing_…

He looked down at his human body and flexed long fingers experimentally before a serene smile crossed his ageless features and he strode over to the window, gazing at the full moon as his eyes grew suspiciously moist.

"Koishii, I am so lonely without you," he whispered. Sighing, he settled back down on the bed and stroked his charge's smooth hair and thought of a husky laugh accompanied with a flutter of yellow and black silk. He inhaled sharply at the tightening in his chest and bowed his head. "Ah, Hoshizora-neko…"

* * *

Jadeite's beating, coupled with the injuries to his insides, had put him in an almost catatonic state as his body attempted to heal itself. Only his brothers' nursing and healing knowledge prevented death this time. It was Kunzite's turn to sit by the Sun Shitennou's still form, his blue eyes gazing intently at Jadeite's closed ones. The only reason Beryl had not yet sentenced Jadeite to death for his failure was the massive store of energy he had taken from Sailormoon. 

Kunzite shook his head bewilderedly. How could such a small girl – Jadeite described her as standing perhaps a little taller than his own chin — possess such fantastic vitality? It seemed preposterous, and yet —

He was shaken from his thoughts '— _your _tail-chasing_, Empty Heaven King; let us call a spade a spade _—' by the noise indicating someone had entered the room: Zoicite and Nephrite, returned from the Throne Room, and as might be expected from those who have been called into the presence of the Queen of the Damned, looking most unhappy.

Zoicite ignored everything around him in favour of making straight for their wounded brother, checking his pulse, his temperature and his bandages to be certain that no-one had attacked Jadeite with any particularly harsh stares, random specks of dust or, horror of horrors, a slight breeze.

Kunzite ignored him in turn — let the boy fuss if he liked; it kept him out of trouble and Jadeite in something closer to good health — and instead turned to Nephrite; the King of Stars had locked the door behind him and leaned against it for good measure, a one-man obstacle against the world in general and Beryl in particular.

"And what does our _beloved_ mistress wish today?" Kunzite inquired acidly. He had lost any manner of respect he had once held for the dark queen with Jadeite's punishment — here she was, demanding energy, and _flogging_ the underling who had almost gotten himself killed to bring her so much of it? '_Fool. Daughter of fools._'

Nephrite allowed his lips a grim twitch. "Our most forgiving and munificent Queen has decided, in her boundless wisdom, that Jadeite may be 'forgiven his failure' and allowed to return to Terra in the name of gathering more _chi_ for the Dark Kingdom's noble cause — immediately, if not sooner."

Kunzite growled low; it was all the warning Zoicite got before the youngest Shitennou found himself seized by the collar and flung up and over Jadeite's bed — backhand — and sailing across the room. "Wa —!"

He tumbled in midair, getting his feet between himself and the unforgiving stone, and pushed off of the wall, turning a neat back flip to land light as a cat on the flagstones.

"Tenkaichi's Balls, Kunzite, what in the name — what was _that_ for?" the Lord of Comets demanded, looking suitably peeved.

"We swore several oaths," his eldest brother said through clenched teeth, "And one of them was never to shoot the messenger."

"Which makes it okay to throw _me_ around instead?"

"Yes," Kunzite told him with what he knew was his most infuriating grin.

"…King of Empty Space," Zoicite muttered. "In the _head_."

The white-haired man gave him a cool look; Zoicite raised his chin and looked defiant. Kunzite smiled thinly, and the boy went pleasingly white. '_There_, _that should keep him nicely paranoid…_' He'd retaliate tomorrow. Or possibly the next day …

He turned his thoughts and his eyes to Jadeite; Nephrite was bending over him, looking worried.

"He's no worse than he was an hour ago, Nephrite," Kunzite said lazily. "The Great Healer Fuss-and-Bother over there can tell you the same thing, I'm sure."

Nephrite looked over at Zoicite; the boy bristled a little at the name, but nodded. "He's a bit better, really," Zoi told them after a moment. "I think he might even wake up…"

The sweep of relief was heady; he allowed it to wash over him for a moment before putting it firmly aside. "Oh, really?" Kunzite murmured, striding back over to the bed. "Like so?" He seized Jadeite's earlobe between finger and thumb and gave it a twist.

"_YIPE!"_ Jadeite startled awake with a yelp, eyes wide with confusion. "What the —" he tried to leap up, but was restrained before even Kunzite could stop him by the apparent agony of his ribs. "Ow _fuck_," he said decisively, and proceeded to describe his opinion of his circumstances in general and Kunzite in particular in terms of their origin, sexual preference and probable location after death.

"Oh yes, he'll be fine," Nephrite chortled, blue eyes twinkling merrily.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since the last blackout, and both Mamoru and Usagi had reached an unspoken agreement not to speak further of the matter. Usagi had relaxed relatively quickly, and the paleness her face had taken on before she and Mamoru had shared confidences returned to its usual glow. Mamoru, however, watched her keenly, almost helplessly. This was one burden he would not be able to take upon himself and himself alone; he would not be able to spare her the pain. 

As the days passed, however, he allowed himself to breathe a little easier, but unlike the more optimistic Usagi, he did not fool himself into thinking everything had passed by. The youma had not attacked since the first day of classes; although this only served to heighten Mamoru's suspicions, he knew that for now all they could do was wait.

Meanwhile, Mizuno Ami, at Usagi's insistence, had joined the circle that ate lunch beneath the old oak. She was a quiet girl, but always lit up when she saw Usagi, and they often chattered about nonsensical things in which Ami's logic would fight desperately against Usagi's more whimsical outlook on life. Most of the time, however, she sat with Saori and read silently before the other girls dragged both out of their shells. Although she had struck Mamoru as a person with slight problems with self-esteem, the swim team seemed to be doing wonders for her confidence.

Mamoru watched them now, smiling slightly at the blonde and bluenette's conversation ("Usagi-chan, colours don't have flavours; you can't _taste_ them…"), Kobayashi's five-hundred and something-th attempt to get Saori to see a movie with him ("Saori-sama, I beg of you, take pity on this unworthy one!") and rolling his eyes at Motoki and Reika. The soda jerk was supposed to be on a study break, with Usagi filling in for his duties and Mamoru to tutor him, but he seemed more interested in giving his girlfriend mushy looks.

"Back to your books, Motoki-kun," he said teasingly. "The Bio quiz isn't going to ask you to label and write an essay on the parts and qualities of Reika-san's lovely eyes."

Reika went a becoming shade of pink; Motoki flushed and might have tried to retort, but was interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Asanuma.

"Ne, I'm sure he wasn't thinking about _that_, Mamoru-senpai," the junior said with a grin. "I bet 'Toki was thinking about burgers, candlelight, a box of wine, then maybe a little later, if he played his cards right, getting to see Reika-san's —"

He was pummelled into silence from three sides: Motoki elbowed him firmly in the gut, which knocked the wind out of him and brought him into easy range of Mamoru's reproving smack over the head, and as a coup de grace, Usagi dropped three ice cubes down his collar as she brought their drinks to the counter.

"You shouldn't be so crude, 'Numa-kun," she told him reprovingly as he went into a contorted little dance, and distributed their orders. "Girls like a gentleman — let's see, green tea for Ami-chan, and seltzer water for Reika-san, and cream soda for Saori-senpai…"

Mamoru and Motoki gave Asanuma smug smirks behind Usagi's back, making Naru giggle, but were quick to present the blonde with a studious mien when she turned to them. Asanuma merely fumed.

Usagi finished distributions — a mocha shake for Mamoru, a Coke for Motoki, a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and two cherries for Asanuma, who took it grumpily and went to sit beside Ami, and a Pocari Sweat for Naru; Kobayashi flinched at the sight, picked up his Mountain Dew, and begged Saori to switch places with him — and was turning to the sink when someone flagged her attention — a random Azabu junior on Asanuma's other side.

"Kon'wa, Yumikumo-kun!" Usagi said brightly, and Mamoru snapped mental fingers. That was it, Boujin Yumikumo, captain of the chess club. Tenshiko knew _everybody_. "What can I get for you today?"

"Your promise to return to the Chess Club?" Boujin asked hopefully. "We need our vice-captain back!"

Usagi gave him a chiding look. "Mou, Yumikumo-kun, I told you last year I'd have to quit to make room in my schedule, and I _meant_ it. Are you really having so much trouble with Myoushu-chan?"

The junior scratched the back of his head. "Well… no," he said reluctantly. "Myoushu-kun is a very hard worker, and I'm sure she'll do wonders for the team — but she's not _you_, Usagi-chan." He gave Usagi an appealing look, and warning bells went off in Mamoru's mind.

Usagi blushed, and Mamoru was annoyed that he couldn't enjoy how cute the pinker shade of her cheeks made her because _this boy was flirting with his Tenshiko_. "Maa, ne… flattery isn't going to get me to change my mind, Yumi-kun. I thought you were happy for me when I got the track captaincy; what changed?"

Boujin waved his hands a little frantically, back-pedalling as fast as his tongue could go. "No, no, it's not that — I _am_ happy for you, Usagi-chan, honest! You're so gorgeous in your track uniform — I mean, you're such a fantastic athlete —"

"It's funny, Boujin; I never pegged you for a suicidal idiot," Asanuma muttered under his breath.

Mamoru idly cracked his knuckles. Boujin flinched.

"Well _I_ would never have 'pegged' Mamoru-san for a homicidal one," Saori said primly.

Boujin flinched again; Usagi looked puzzled, and was blushing a little more. "I… well, thank you, Yumi-kun, that was very nice of you to say, but I really am proud of my position, so unless you had anything else to ask me…?"

Mamoru's gaze narrowed. Boujin was beginning to sweat.

"Ee, eeto, eeto na… Tea!" the junior blurted.

Usagi perked up at what she thought was a drink order. "Ah, hai! You like buckwheat tea, don't you, Yumi-kun? I'll be right back."

She turned away even as she spoke, leaving Boujin standing at the corner, mouth still moving.

"Demo… I was going to buy _you_ some," the chess genius said lamely.

Asanuma patted his shoulder. "There, there, Boujin; you're hardly the first to ask, and certainly not the first to find her completely oblivious. But you might want to run anyway."

"I would?" Boujin asked blankly. Asanuma pointed, and Boujin turned to look over his shoulder.

Mamoru smiled pleasantly.

Boujin went white.

"Ah… I think I'll just be going," said the nervous junior, fumbling for his wallet and putting down a bill. "Please apologise to Usa — to Tsukino-san for me about the tea — Asanuma, Kobayashi, I'll see you in class," he stuttered, and backed three steps toward the door before he finally broke and ran.

They all stared after him for a moment.

"Yumi-kun!" Usagi called, trotting out of the storeroom. "I'm afraid we're all out of buckwheat tea, can I get you something else? …Yumi-kun?" She noticed that the entire arcade was now staring at her, and stumbled to a halt. "…Why is everybody staring at me? Where did Yumi-kun go?"

The Crown rang with laughter.

Usagi shook her head in exasperation. "You're all really _weird_, I hope you know that," she murmured. "'Numa-kun? Did Yumi-kun say where he was going?"

"Ah — hai, Usagi-chan," Asanuma managed between giggles. "He had to run off suddenly, but he left you the money for the tea… I'll give it back for you, okay?"

Mamoru whistled a jaunty tune, raking a hand through his hair and twiddling his thumbs. Usagi shot him a half-reproachful, half-suspicious look. "Mamo-chan?"

So… perhaps she wasn't quite as clueless to what he'd been doing as he'd thought she was.

"Hai, Tenshiko?"

"What did you do to poor Yumi-kun?"

He gave her an innocent look. "Now what makes you think I did something to him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know — maybe because you've done something to _every_ boy who's tried to ask me out _ever_?"

"Busted," Kobayashi muttered, grinning. Saori elbowed him.

"Oh, is _that_ what he was doing?" Mamoru said lightly. "And here I thought he was trying to coerce you into winning him another tournament…"

She gave a most unladylike snort. "Oh, I'm sure he was out for _that_, too, but —" Her mouth shut abruptly, a queer expression crossing her face.

Mamoru's brows drew together. "…Tenshiko?"

"Gomen, Motoki-niisan, could you perhaps mind the arcade again?" Her voice was languid. "There's someplace I must be…"

"Ah — of course, Usagi-chan," Motoki said slowly. "I was starting to get a headache from all of this biology — Usagi-chan? Where are you going?"

He swivelled on his stool to watch as she wandered dreamily out of the Crown, still wearing Unazuki's spare apron.

My cavalier… 

"I'll go after her," Mamoru heard himself saying, and wondered when he had stood up. It seemed like a good idea, so he went with it, never noticing when his eyes slid completely out and then back into focus, golden sparks dancing about sapphire irises in time to the dual pulse racing through his veins.

They all stared after him, no-one quite daring to ask another, 'Did _you_ see that?' and Naru went very still, remembering a bout of rumour-gathering:

_Okame Aisetsu from Class B, normally so calm and quiet, babbling nervously and waving his hands about before a confused but eager audience. "I'm _telling_ you, something's up with Chiba-senpai! His eyes were _gold_, and I wasn't the only one who…"_

Silence reigned for a moment, each at the counter startled or confused or pensive or _wondering_….

Ami stiffened suddenly, staring at her bag, and seeing that she had started her companions, flushed and jumped to her feet, gathering it up and bobbing a quick bow.

"Gomen ne, minna, but I just remembered — Hahaue said this morning that she wants me home early — please tell Usagi-chan I'll call her later — sumimasen!" She shouldered the bag and was halfway out the door before anyone could speak.

Kobayashi was the first to break the silence, taking a large gulp of his Dew before letting out the mother of all belches.

"Kuso! Air, somebody, _air_!" Asanuma bawled, flailing wildly in his seat, his windmilling arms inadvertently chasing the smell of half-digested soda and chips away.

Kobayashi let out a smaller burp, this time covering his mouth sheepishly with a large hand. "Eh…gomen ne?" He looked hopefully at Saori, who let out a half-amused, half-disgusted snort and turned back to her Law textbook.

Seeing his friend droop with something akin to depression, Asanuma whipped out his notebook again. "They're _still_ not doing anything yet… all Mamoru-senpai does is chase off the boys interested in Usagi-chan and nothing else!"

Kobayashi, now over his humiliation, was staring at the automatic doors of the arcade. "Don't you think it's funny how she just rushed out like that, and then he followed her? Maybe it was staged? Maybe they're already dating and want to — mmmrph!"

"That's _nasty_, 'Yashi!" Asanuma complained. "Ami just went out soon after and _that'd_ mean they're all together right — eurk!"

Reika arched an eyebrow at Saori, and both sighed simultaneously, removing their hands from the boys' mouths.

"Must be some kind of twisted logic males have," Reika muttered, unsure of whether or not laughter was appropriate at the moment.

Saori merely blew her fringe out of her eyes and began to rub her temples wearily. "It's just one of those things," she answered, tone sour.

Naru and Motoki exchanged glances, and he nodded ever-so-slightly towards the counter. Exhaling loudly, Naru nodded to the others. "I'll be right back."

Asanuma and Kobayashi stared after her retreating figure as the doors slid open and she slipped though, hurrying in the direction that Usagi, Ami and Mamoru had gone.

"…Lucky man," Asanuma muttered. "Three girls… itai! Watch where you spill that thing!"

* * *

**_Glossary _**

_**saiai—'beloved'**_

'**_Watashi mo'—_'Me too; I as well'**

**_koishii_—'dear; beloved; darling'**

**_Hoshizora-neko_—'Cat of the starry sky.' A reference to Aika. **

**_hahaue_—(polite) '(one's own) mother'**

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A/N: REVIEW, PLEASE!

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	6. Akebono no Koushin Shimasu

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A/N: Ooooookay. We updated. /hides/ Dontkillusplease! Jikkan-neesama's area was humming with activity due to Hurricane Rita passing by, and so things got a little slow. That and me, Arashi-baka, being lazy. We could've had this up days ago, you know. /whimpers/ And I'm going into review withdrawal… please, please, _please _just drop a line or two saying what you think!**

**This chapter is dedicated to _Lina Loo_ for being such a brilliant reviewer and giving us such brilliant reviews. Thankee, Cheerios-chan. /does teh crinkly-eyes/.**

**Anyway, _review_… onegai. /bats lashes/

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**V – Akebono no Koushin Shimasu**

**_The Beginning of the Renewal_**

* * *

'_People speak so often of soul mates, and I wonder at how little they know. A soul bond has little to do with love; it is about two souls complementing each other so flawlessly that the unbreakable thread of destiny draws the two individuals together until the souls themselves can mate and become one. It doesn't matter if they are both of the same gender, or a generation apart. It doesn't matter if they are already bound to another man or woman, or if they are dedicated to a life of celibacy. Marriage and promises to a God can only bind a person for life – soul mates bind them for eternity. It is for this reason I allow my daughter and the Terran Prince Endymion to be together – who am I to stand in the way of Fate? It would only earn me, and they, more suffering in the end.' _

– Queen Selenity of the Silver Millennium

* * *

Sailormoon's lips quirked upwards into a wry smile when she felt Tuxedo Kamen near, and she turned to see him land silently not three metres away from her. His red-lined cape snapped crisply in the strong breeze as he swept his hat off in an elegant bow. "My lady?" 

"It's Jadeite – he's down there somewhere, and two youma with him," she answered as she straightened from her responding curtsey. Feeling his curiosity spike through the bond, she tried to tell him how she knew. "He smells of fire, heat, light –" the moon senshi gestured helplessly in an attempt to express herself, hoping she did not look or sound too foolish.

Kamen gave a short nod, eyes sweeping the busy area as he inhaled deeply. "There is another one like him – human but not human. He tastes of starsong."

Sailormoon relaxed, unable to keep the fondness from her smile, but her eyes were worried as she probed the area and confirmed her companion's observation. "Hai," she sighed, and he half-raised a comforting hand before it dropped to his side again.

Dark eyes regarded their surroundings with a curiously-experienced air, seeking defensible spots, high ground, places of vulnerability, possible ambush. War hovered beneath the surface, waiting.

"There was another fighting the youma when I found you," he said conversationally, eyes never wavering from their task. "A bishoujo senshi like yourself, but in shades of blue and commanding the forces of frost and ice, accompanied by a spirit in the shape of a cat. They seemed too curious about you to be one of yours."

"A Senshi in blue…" Sailormoon's voice was soft, longing, and he swallowed hard. Of course she would be lonely, just as he, but that she should wish for _anyone_ in that way… "It is familiar, somehow, but no more than that. Perhaps she and her companion will come again…" Her voice turned serious. "What do you think of the battlefield?"

"It is too quiet," he answered immediately, "and the civilians will be a problem." Tuxedo Kamen's insides did a guilty squirm of pleasure at her asking his opinion, but he quashed it and tried to organise his thoughts. "It is possible that whatever youma they have brought this time originates in or takes its power from water," he observed, "if they would choose a harbour as a battlefield."

She blinked and nodded slowly. "That had not occurred to me," she confessed, embarrassment plain in her tone. "But if that is so, we should stay away from the water as a precaution; find a place to defend, first. There is no point attempting to fight an unseen enemy."

"If you could see them, it would be another thing altogether," Tuxedo Kamen concluded. "Then, you would use the element of surprise –"

"And strike first," she nodded, pleasure colouring her face. Slipping through shadow with him by her side, Sailormoon reached up to remove her tiara, and with a faint glow, it reshaped itself into the now-familiar tachi-style sword. Tuxedo Kamen gave the golden weapon a wry look before drawing his cane and concentrating briefly. Dark wood shimmered and melted into keen steel, the blue ripples beneath its surface marking it as the finest forging money could buy. Sailormoon cast the longsword an envious look. "A fine blade."

Saluting her with it, he obviously forgot about his hat and as a result, almost knocked it off his head. Sailormoon turned away to hide her mirth, and it faded abruptly as a buxom youma in a sailor's cap, shirt and shorts dove at her. Sailormoon hastily brought her sword up to meet its boathook. "Eek!"

A muttered curse was all the warning Sailormoon had before Tuxedo Kamen scooped her up and they soared upwards. Dropping the sword before she could skewer him and then grabbing the lapels of his jacket with a mild sort of panic, she felt his arms tighten about her. "I would not drop you, my lady."

She relaxed minutely. "You, I trust implicitly; it is circumstances such as these I doubt," was her shaky reply. "Demo… you can _fly_?"

The golden-haired senshi felt the laughter rumble in his chest as he answered. "It would certainly seem so," Tuxedo Kamen released her as they landed on a warehouse roof of some sort. "It is actually telekinesis," he added. "One of my favourite tricks. Gomen nasai, Lady Moon… did I cause you to lose your blade?"

Sailormoon smiled grimly and scanned the ground they had left for her tachi; it lay abandoned on the ground some ways from the youma, an innocent bit of jewellery once again. "Think nothing of it, Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she said absently, narrowing her eyes in concentration. "Watch my back, onegai?"

The masked man's eyes were fond behind his mask. "Always." Again, he drew the blade, and felt her frown a little before something _clicked _and triumph flashed through the bond. The tiara slapped into her hand and lengthened back into its sword form. Kamen smiled at Sailormoon's pleased satisfaction. "An excellent trick of your own, my lady."

"My thanks." Sailormoon began to channel energy into her weapon, the sword glowing dimly as _chi_ filled it. "This is a good place, Tuxedo Kamen," she remarked. "I see them coming now."

He looked critically at her sword and arched a brow mock-challengingly. "Would you be able to hit the one in the blasphemously skimpy uniform that had so rudely assaulted you earlier?"

Sailormoon stamped down the urge to wink at her dark-haired companion and removed his hat – it'd only get in his way during battle, she made excuse – before her weapon shimmered back into its discus form. "Moon Tiara Action!" she called, executing a graceful spin to add to her momentum before releasing the _chi_-charged weapon.

Seeing that the target was fast enough to evade the attack, Tuxedo Kamen sent a small volley of roses that distracted it sufficiently as it attempted to claw them away.

Sailormoon pouted for a moment; annoyed he had been forced to interfere, she recalled her tiara again. "Its attire was not so blasphemously short as _this_," she said finally, a chuckle in her tone as she gestured towards her blue skirt, which only came down to a point almost half a foot above her knee. He stammered a reply that was lost to the wind as a blast of icy fog froze the youma creeping up behind him.

Sailormoon's eyes sparkled merrily as she watched the ice senshi land nimbly before her. Dropping into an elegant curtsey and trusting Tuxedo Kamen to take care of the youma himself, Sailormoon granted her blue counterpart a smile. "My noble companion is indebted to you, and I understand that I am as well. Might we have the honour of knowing your name?"

The bluenette senshi blushed and returned the curtsey, if a little clumsily. "I'm Sailormercury," she answered with a shy smile, not flinching as the sound of cracking ice was accompanied by the dying youma's dismayed shriek. "And if you would allow it, I'd like to be your ally, if not your friend."

Sailormoon's eyes crinkled behind her mask as she began to speak, but was halted by Tuxedo Kamen's raised hand. "My lady, perhaps this conversation could –" sensing that the two smelling of fire and stars were nearing, she nodded to Mercury with an apologetic grin. "Lady Mercury, would you happen to have a corporeal weapon you might use at close quarters?"

Mercury shook her head. "A physical one? Iie, I don't; my attack is strong and can be used in close quarters. It does, however, have the drawback of needing to be powered up a little."

"Then you shall fight from the shadows, if it permits so," Sailormoon decided, shooting a glance at the other two to see if they objected to this arrangement. Both nodded in agreement, seeing the logic in what she had just proposed. "There are two – I am not sure what they are called, truly, but one is a general of the Dark Kingdom named Jadeite. The other is one very much like him, but we do not know his name."

Mercury nodded firmly and, after a moment's pause, called up a light fog about them. "I shall be able to see through this with my visor," she informed them, "and I think your masks –"

"Yes, this is wonderful – domo arigatou." Mercury nodded again and turned to leave. "Matte, onegai!" Sailormoon's commanding tone stopped her, and the bluenette looked inquiringly at the blonde senshi, who shrugged with a slightly sheepish look behind her white mask. "Perhaps you might warn the civilians?"

"Hai," agreed the blue-clad warrior, and she melted into the mist.

Tuxedo Kamen and Sailormoon turned so that they faced away from each other, so close their backs were almost touching. "Their means of transportation is something I'd like to try for myself," Sailormoon remarked as the fiery presence in her mind's eye blipped out of existence some hundred metres away before reappearing scarce ten metres from the duo. "Perhaps it would be less tiring than travelling in such footwear," she only half-joked, shifting about in her high-heeled boots.

Her companion's amusement seeped through the bond, and his very presence held the slightest hint of a laugh in it as he began to speak –

But that was when black fire burned away the mist; recovering swiftly, Tuxedo Kamen made a fierce gesture and a similar-looking handful of gold flame swallowed its darker counterpart before speeding toward where Jadeite would have been if he had not teleported away, reappearing directly in front of the moon senshi and barely ducking the sweep of her blade. Cursing, Jadeite appeared to abandon his strategy of stealth and speed, instead drawing his own weapon – a long katana of darkly-tinted steel. With a snarl of hatred, he brought it down and black and white-gold sparks flew as Sailormoon's sword came up to meet his.

Tuxedo Kamen did not turn to help; rather, he experimented a little with his sword and the golden fire so that bright flames licked the blue-tinged blade, flaring angrily every now and then as Kamen felt Sailormoon's pain down their bond. Jadeite was obviously getting the upper hand –

– But a reprimanding blast of frost, courtesy of the hidden ice senshi, distracted the dark general sufficiently for Sailormoon to regain her equilibrium and she stood back a moment to survey him. With a cold smile, he bent forwards slightly at the waist, and she did the same. They crossed their swords; saluted one another. Then, the duel began, the hieroglyphs etched into his sword spilling an insidious-looking grey smoke even as her sun-bright weapon burned the darkness away.

Kamen restrained himself from turning; Mercury would help his lady. For now, the star-being must be his opponent. Even as he reluctantly accepted the thought, a keening melody pierced the air and he flinched as harsh notes spilled forth from a shrill-voiced piccolo. As the song reached its crescendo, a shower of dark energy coalesced and poured towards Kamen, who reeled from both the grating noise and a slash on Sailormoon's arm that refused to accept his healing energy.

Gritting his teeth, the masked man watched as the formless darkness solidified into an elegant, winged black horse with red eyes and a fiery horn sprouting from its brow. Sitting astride it was the other general, identified as such by the now unpleasantly-familiar grey uniform. This man had auburn hair flowing past his shoulders and a tall, strong build. The black fire that served as the horse's forelock, mane and tail did not burn him; his eyes were closed almost serenely as long fingers played over the small silver keys.

A distant "_Shabon Spray_!" from Sailormercury missed as the phantom Pegasus, obviously anticipating the attack, reared back to avoid it. When his steed had fully manifested, or so it appeared, the star-general opened grim blue eyes and his instrument disintegrated into dark sparks that became lost in the black equine's mane. "I am Nephrite, King of Stars and the distant music they sing." His voice held little inflection or tone, and the beast he sat astride pranced a few times as if to make up for its master's indifference.

Something had stayed Tuxedo Kamen's hand from attacking – the black Pegasus seemed to spark a dangerous fury that seemed almost taboo to tap, though it leant him a near-berserk strength that he strained to hold back. Its horn in particular seemed familiar, and as ocean-blue eyes met a gaze the colour of an afternoon sky, Tuxedo Kamen's form blazed gold and all froze to watch what appeared to be a fit of some kind of madness. His limbs jerked, and spasms wracked his tall frame, now bent double with pain.

* * *

_He was awake! Seizing his chance, Endymion grappled with the other presence in an attempt to win control. Slowly, Stealth's standard fell, and he let out an almost wistful sigh before falling silent. The banners of War fluttered triumphant in an invisible wind as the victorious prince smiled. He would bide his time; determine his location and situation. With a small shudder, he allowed Stealth to reassert itself for the moment, but there was a dagger at its throat.

* * *

_

Sailormoon rounded on Jadeite as the bond flickered and died, eyes fierce and injuries forgotten as she snarled viciously, inflicting several more wounds before the general, startled and pained, managed to block her next blows. "_What did you do to him_?" she roared, her petite body's presence growing to frighteningly intimidating levels. Crystal-blue eyes flashed a silvery lavender-sky as the golden sword came alive with silver _chi _in her hands. "_What have you sons of pigs done to my Lord_?"

Just as she landed yet another blow on her opponent, Sailormoon felt the bond reassert itself again and her heart soared in relief – but her moves were swift and sure; her pace did not falter. Mercy would have been commendable, she knew, but she was still angry and something about the gold-silver link seemed different; she could feel undercurrents of shock, anger and disbelief along with the reassurance her black-haired companion had sent her. Dismissing it temporarily, she drew back to deliver the fatal blow.

It was then that hooves of night galloped by, forcing her to retreat. As she watched the Star tend to the Sun, she realised just how close to murder she had come, for murder it was – their duel had, for all intents and purposes, been a fair one in which surrender would not be tainted with dishonour. She should have allowed him retreat when her strength, skill and determination outmatched his, but instead –

Who was this Tuxedo Kamen, whose pain could spur her to madness and even hatred? Who was he whose loss could drive her pure soul into darkness?

Sailormoon darted to where he knelt on the ground, and with both hands raised Tuxedo Kamen's head so that she could see his face. The madness was gone from his gaze, she saw, and her heart ached in relief so profound she could almost lose her composure completely, lean in to kiss him.

Shocked by her thoughts, Sailormoon's eyes widened, and she lowered them demurely. "You are well? How have they harmed you?"

Kamen shook his head, obviously confused. "It was not they," he replied, but Sailormoon could tell he was visibly shaken. "Something – something –"

"It is not passed?" the golden-haired senshi demanded, visibly alarmed. Behind her, she could hear the click of heels, an anxious presence of young-old wisdom and ice, and knew it was her blue-clad counterpart. "Lady Mercury?"

"Hai," the bluenette answered, blushing a little at the honorary term but keeping a wary eye on their opponents Nephrite and Jadeite. The latter had obviously recovered, and the former looked to be berating him. "Daijobou desu ka, Tuxedo Kamen-sama?"

"Daijobou," he answered, and stood slowly. Sailormoon took his hand in both of hers and squeezed it gently, finally allowing her gaze to meet his again. "Perhaps you might withdraw –?"

"Iie!" he almost snapped, but Sailormoon could feel his shame and apology through their link. "Iie," he repeated, a little more calmly. "I am well – and should it occur again, I shall defend from afar. My sword arm is still strong," Kamen added when he saw Sailormoon looked doubtful. "Lady Mercury? Perhaps take up your station?"

Sailormercury nodded and raised her hands to cast the fog again, but Sailormoon stayed her. "Use it when one of us is needy," she advised, and the ice senshi smiled before leaving quietly.

* * *

"What the hell did you _do?_" Jadeite wondered. "It must have been effective, given how close that damned blonde came to tearing me apart — _Ow_! Damn it, what _is_ it with me and the injuries lately —" 

"Perhaps it's your winning personality," Nephrite said dryly. "Hold _still_, blast you — you're the one who's supposed to be the _healer_ of our lot, don't you know to do that? As for 'what did I do', I have no idea — one moment he was trying to flay me with his eyes, and the next moment he was on _fire_…"

_Golden fire…_ The thought was peculiarly _resonant_: a flavour in the mind, the shadow of a dream…

Jadeite shook his head to clear it, and immediately regretted the action. "Well you must have done _something_," he said stubbornly. "He was looking at you —"

"Well maybe he didn't like the colour of my horse," his brother said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, Jade, if I'd known how to do it on _purpose_ I'd have tried it on the girl when she tried to skewer you for roasting, not just come galloping in on my white horse —"

"Black Pegasus —"

"I _know_ what I ride, thank you — to rescue the Brother In Distress. Tenkaichi's Blood, Jade, why didn't you just teleport?"

"Well I couldn't exactly get enough concentration to do it when some chit was hacking at me with a four-foot long sword, now _could_ I?" Jadeite demanded through clenched teeth. "I defy you to do better —"

"And _I_," said a cool, familiar voice, "defy you to come out of hiding before the she-demons and their ridiculously-clad thrall take the notion that they are your betters."

"I dunno, Kunz — from up _here_ it looks like they'd be pretty accurate," Zoicite said lightly, ducking the Eldest's reproving cuff.

"Let me guess… that might have been because 'they' were _outnumbered?_" Jadeite returned. "Shove it up your arse sideways, Zoi."

The Youngest pouted. "Well, fine, if you're going to be _that_ way, then I shan't _bother_ to rescue you from Nephrite's tender mercies."

Nephrite rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Zoi, I'm hardly that bad —"

He was cut off by a muffled screech. "YEOWCH! YOU DON'T POUR THE BRUISE BALM _INTO_ THE CUTS, YOU _STUPID _— **Zoi!** Get over here and help me before the well-meaning incompetent over here decides I need a bracing shot of hemlock or something —"

Zoicite studied his nails. "What was that, Jade? 'I'm so sorry I insulted you, Zoi, you make the best jokes in the _world,_ Zoi, I'll admit that breaking my favourite staff was an accident, Zoi, just please, please save me from the kack-handed idiot'?"

Jade went a fascinating shade of purple and opened his mouth to protest this assumption — the splintered weapon was a _very_ sore point between them — but was interrupted by the pommel of Kunzite's sword, applied to the back of his head with calculated precision: just enough to reprimand but not enough to cause real damage.

Yet.

Zoi preened. "See, even Kunz thinks you should say it! I hope you'll be — _ite!_" The pommel descended on his own head. "…Kunz-eeerk…" he keeled over, swirly-eyed from the force of the blow.

"If you're _quite_ finished," the Eldest said coolly, "you might go and aid the wounded. Nephrite, stop sulking and report."

Straightening, the King of Stars saluted his commander with a glare, foregoing the subtle outer flick of the fingers indicating respect. "Our opponents are a Sailormoon, Sailormercury and a fighter by the name of Tuxedo Kamen. At least one of either Tuxedo Kamen or Sailormoon has some kind of strategist mind; they knew to move to higher ground for the best advantage –"

"_Dummies_ know that, Neph," Zoicite sniped as he tightened the bandages on Jadeite's arm painfully, earning himself an indignant slap from his patient. "Oi! Go on like this and you shan't have your lollipop, Jed."

"Call me that again and you'll find your bonbons in —"

"A most uncomfortable place, yes, yes, we're all well aware of this," Zoicite drawled. "Get some new threats, will you?"

"— _Sideways,_" Jadeite added.

"Oh, yes, I'm _truly_ terrified. Even if it is the lollipops. Honestly, Jade, you're a bit off-colour to be making off-colour jokes…"

Nephrite ignored their byplay and continued. "Mercury has made herself an annoyance several times, but has used only one attack — her weakest. She fights like a raw recruit – perhaps they have to work their way back up to their full strength?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Kunzite inquired acidly. "Report, don't speculate."

The taller Shitennou looked briefly rebellious, but a glance at Jadeite reinforced the necessity of professionalism. Let Zoi boost Jadeite's morale by distracting him, Dust knew he could use it — but Jade _also_ needed to win this battle, and Time was their enemy as much as any glittering girl. "'Sailormoon' seems closer to Tuxedo Kamen than Sailormercury, but is either a new senshi or an excellent facsimile of one — as strong or stronger than Mercury, but dependant on an artefact — a tiara that she can reshape into either a tachi or a discus, recall to her hand, and charge with _chi _to increase its effect."

"And can she _use_ these shapes, or is it another shining frippery?"

"Her discus work is rather _painfully_ accurate, and she's an excellent swordswoman," Nephrite glanced at Jadeite, who was mumbling imprecations about shearing the girl bald with the damned bit of glitter for ropes of her own hair to bind her with. "Of course, she was against _Jade_, so that may not be so much of an indication of her skill as his lack thereof," he added lightly, and ducked the empty jar of salve that was promptly flung at his head.

Perhaps just a _little_ teasing.

Kunzite plucked the jar out of the air before it could hit him and raised an eyebrow at Jadeite, who flushed; Nephrite shifted a little uncomfortably under the returning weight of that silver gaze and decided not to wait for prompting.

"Tuxedo Kamen has displayed a variety of attacks and abilities thus far," he said reluctantly. Something about that man… "His aura is immense; larger than all four of ours combined, larger than Beryl's, _Metallia_'s even — I'm not surprised he's managed to master the advanced forms of telekinesis: flying, slowing down a fall, things of that nature. He can heal with a touch, and flings around massive amounts of raw _chi _as if he were tossing those roses of his, though he does at least look a _little_ drained." He took a deep breath, let it out, and continued reluctantly.

"Here's the thing, though: from where I stand, his power is so vast that the things he can do now are _nothing_ to what he will do one day, unfettered. He hasn't even made so much as a _scratch_ in his potential."

_An aura of flames to outdo the stars in the sky…_

Kunzite looked critically at the man in question. "I cannot see this power that you speak of," he remarked, "nor can I feel it."

Nephrite shook his head. "Wait until you see him in action — at rest he hides so _much_; Jadeite can tell you —"

"Our Sun brother can tell me a great many useless things, I'll wager." Kunzite's tone was sardonic, and Nephrite made as if to speak but then seemed to think better of it.

"Be on your guard," he said at last, and saluted Kunzite again before stalking away to sit beside Zoicite. The laughter returned to his face as he made a nuisance of himself and Kunzite observed his brothers fondly, but his thoughts lingered on their opponents.

Mercury had taken up a position on the highest point of the harbour — the lighthouse, which was perhaps half a mile away. Tuxedo Kamen and Sailormoon were once again back to back, and he wondered absently what they might be whispering to each other, but all speech ceased, and both warriors stood silent and still.

Rising lazily to his feet, Kunzite signalled to his brothers, who had also fallen silent, and they rose to their feet, Jadeite refusing help from the others.

"Why is she so far away?" Zoicite wondered out loud, and it was obvious he was referring to Mercury, whose blue hair was fast becoming indistinguishable from the darkening sky.

Nephrite's snort was derisive. "Zoi, once energy attacks are separated from their caster, they gather more power and lethality from the matter through which they pass, in this case air. One of her blasts would very likely attain a mildly dangerous edge towards us — it would definitely freeze and greatly injure a youma —"

"The likes of which we have been issued only," Jadeite observed, blue eyes containing a seriousness seldom ever saw. "These youma… they're so weak that even Sailormercury could freeze them to the core, though not kill them. Two small blows and they perish…"

"Enough," said Kunzite. "Let us resolve this — our new orders are to destroy the senshi at any cost. Zoicite, is the youma in position?"

"He is – I added a little of my own energy to strengthen him, but he is hungry. You chose well, Nephrite."

The Star King smiled half-embarrassedly. "Let's see him in action, and then I will feel better about accepting your compliments," he muttered. "Where did you leave him?"

"He'll stay as close to the battle as it permits, but he manifested himself right…" the strawberry-blond man pointed at a pier where several fishing junks were anchored, "there."

"Mizugameza will do as bidden," Nephrite assured, "nevertheless, this is our fight and he is but a safeguard."

"Now that we're done patting ourselves on the back for a trap well-set, battle calls." The others groaned at the Sun King, but Nephrite mounted his Pegasus again as Jadeite, Zoicite and Kunzite teleported away. "Tenkaichi's Grace be with you," Nephrite whispered. He couldn't help think that they had missed something… somehow….

* * *

"There are five of them." 

His voice was considerably harder now than it had been just before he'd broken off from his conversation on tactics with her. Sailormoon ignored the pang in her chest at this thought and concentrated on the four presences.

Her brow knitted in confusion as a fifth presence wavered uncertainly before winking out. Holding her breath, Sailormoon focused her attention on that one, waiting to see if it would reappear. To her relief, it seemed that it had left.

"Be on guard," her darkly-clad companion cautioned carefully, and she blinked in surprise before nodding. A cautious awareness in the back of her mind indicated that he felt it too.

"One appears to have left," Sailormoon pointed out. "I cannot feel it at all."

He did not answer, but she could hear the squeak of his sword hilt's leather binding as his grip tightened warily. "Be on guard," he repeated.

That was when one of the newcomers appeared before them, swishing a rapier about dangerously. The black steel reminded Sailormoon unpleasantly of the slash in her arm which, though shallow, was now dribbling yellowy pus. She didn't need to check that it was swollen an unhealthy purple at the edges for the knowledge that it was infected – perhaps by some dark magic in the blade – and it was decidedly painful.

Sailormoon felt Tuxedo Kamen's apology and self-berating disgust filtering down their link. She tried to reassure him that it was she who had been foolish to decline his healing after the cut had refused to close after his initial attempts; again, it was likely the work of some poison.

"I am Zoicite, Comet King of the Four Shitennou," the man in front of them called, and there was an almost eager look in his green eyes.

A whisper of cold made Tuxedo Kamen blink before his sword came up instinctively to knock away the thrust a white-haired form had executed. Silver eyes glinted mockingly as the second attacker granted him a vicious smile. "I am King of Empty Space, the Elder Shitennou Kunzite," said he.

Tuxedo Kamen arched a sceptical brow and lowered his longsword into an 'at ease' position, a clear insult to his opponents. "Whether you be Kings or Lords, it matters not to me," Kamen drawled. "A title grants neither skill nor stamina."

Again, a blaze of black fire from Jadeite signalled the beginning of conflict and sword met sword. Nephrite's grating song filled the air; as their blades danced with their enemies', Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen fancied there were wolves lurking in the lengthening shadows, and the song made them real.

As Mercury made to attack the shadowy creatures the Star Shitennou had summoned, she was buffeted forcefully from behind and, though surprised, pushed herself as far away from the lighthouse walls as she could. Her enhanced strength allowed her a fall that was broken as she froze a small ice floe where she landed unharmed. Immediately, she felt the displacement of water as an ice-cold hand gripped hers and she looked into glowing eyes.

"Senshi," Mizugameza whispered, and his voice was like the hiss of foam in the ocean. His hold on her tightened as he began to pull her into deeper water.

Sailormercury's eyes widened in disbelief, and she made no move to resist as she returned the youma's gaze unfalteringly. "Aquarius?" she whispered in belief as she saw the constellation pattern tattooed on a naked shoulder.

"Senshi…"

Finally jarred into action by the knowledge her floe was shrinking and that she was being dragged farther out to sea where she would presumably be pulled under and drowned, Mercury attempted to break Mizugameza's strong grip on her wrist, wincing. She would have bruises tomorrow morning – assuming she survived.

Cursing herself for being so weak, Sailormercury threw her head back and issued a loud shriek that echoed around and about the harbour. Both flinched as the waters magnified her shriek and she hid a smile. Perhaps it was not strength that she needed… Concentrating hard even as the youma's hold on her continued to tighten, Sailormercury closed her eyes. "_Shabon Spray,_" she whispered in a low voice, and when the youma made as if to bat the globe of energy away, the bluenette let loose a scream almost directly in his ear, slamming the energy attack into the side of his head at the same time.

It was weak, but it was enough. Mizugameza's hold loosened and Mercury created more ice platforms to act as stepping-stones so that she might escape back to shore, narrowly avoiding a torrent of dark flame as Jadeite reappeared. The Constellation youma recovered swiftly and ice floes overturned and exploded into the air in a spray of froth and foam as he butted them upwards. She kicked away Mizugameza's hand one last time before tumbling into a heap on shore and scrabbling to get away from the waterline, tripping and falling into a small fishing skiff.

Jadeite teleported directly in front of her and, unable to think of anything else as the black katana sang an eerie song, the blue-clad senshi kicked in the compartment and scrabbled about for something that might be used as a weapon. Her hand encountered a rubber grip and Mercury blinked in astonishment at the fishing rod before grabbing it hastily and preparing to make her stand, though her insides shook.

* * *

_She heard her sister's scream and tore through the folds of encroaching sleep, looking through the eyes of her host to see the ice maiden bring up a flimsy-looking weapon that bore no resemblance whatsoever to her usual lyre with which she summoned ice from the air and blizzards from the wind. She saw that her opponent, obviously taunting her, fought with the flat of his blade; the slender contraption snapped under his blows and the bluenette grabbed a boat-pole. Ghostly lavender eyes widened as slender hands covered a mouth open in shock and disbelief. _

What are you doing, Trickster? Why so timid? Why fight with a weapon not yours? Where are your senshi-sisters? _As another cry rang out, this time of pain rather than out of the desire to surprise, Serenity fought her way to the surface and her scream echoed Sailormercury's – she let loose her summons and hoped that the blips of fire-thunder-water-love-wind-death-time that were her other sisters responded. _They would not forsake you, Warrior of Mercury; do they sleep as I do? O Trickster, show me the smile you wear in battle!

* * *

Aino Minako bustled peacefully about her bedroom, intent but not frantic; today was a _good_ day. There'd been no Dark Agency activity for the last week; no Agency meant no youma, and no youma meant completed homework, which meant happier teachers, which meant no detention, which meant no detention _notices_, which meant no Mama screeching her head off — which meant a happy Mina, and a happy Mina would get up half an hour early for no reason but to enjoy the sunshine. She set her hairbrush on the vanity with a soft _click;_ not far away, a white cat curled on her sun-drenched windowsill flicked his ears at the noise. 

"Is it a good day, Mina?" he said lazily, eyes half-shut. "You're humming…" Artemis tried to remember the last time she'd hummed as she went about her morning routine. A cheerful Minako was one thing — she was generally a bit of a lark, bouncy and bubbly without fail unless she'd overslept, in which case she was a whirling dervish — but he didn't think he'd _ever_ seen her so … _mellow_.

He smiled to himself, and closed his eyes to bask again. '_Hail to Thee, Helios, Own Brother of Selene; look with favour on Your grand-niece's faithful sister, for surely she has earned such a glorious day_ —'

That was when he felt, rather than saw, her go very still, and heard her sharp intake of breath. He opened his eyes worriedly, looking up to see her suddenly tense posture. "Minako?"

"That's it," she said hoarsely, and whirled about to face him, blue eyes wild. "Artemis, we _must _get to Tokyo — now! Nay, _sooner _than now: instantly!"

Artemis leapt to his feet. "A teleport? V," – for she was henshining even as he spoke — no, not V, Sailorvenus herself, with only the false crescent to mark herself as the Decoy Serenity — "what could possibly be so urgent —?"

The orange-clad Senshi caught him up in her arms. "_She _calls."

He understood, and she held up her henshin pen again. "Venus Power – _Teleport_!"

* * *

Sailormoon's sudden shriek froze all on the battlefield and Tuxedo Kamen drove the point of his sword into Kunzite's shoulder before retreating hastily to her side, slashing viciously at a snarling shadow-wolf as he placed himself between the crumpled senshi and Zoicite. Her emotions were a strange mix of disbelief, betrayal, worry, concern and a warm sensation he could not truly identify, though a voice in him whispered _love_. 

_What have they done?_ he snarled down the link and his blade blossomed with gold fire again, its blue-tinged steel the heart of the flame.

An eruption of orange-gold light coalesced into a feminine, glittering form before solidifying into a senshi with a ginger skirt and a girdle of golden, interlinked hearts about her slender waist. Blue eyes a shade darker than Sailormoon's assessed the situation coolly and her face hardened. A white tom at her heels hesitated briefly before a harshly whispered command had it darting away from the conflict.

With a deft motion, the chain was in her hands as it exploded into light. Her voice was clear above the hum of the links as she whirled them expertly in intricate patterns, her face lit by a cold smile. "_Aiyoku to hikari no, seerafuku bishoujo senshi! Sailorvenus!_" her speech ended on an almost melodic laugh before the orange-clad senshi gestured fiercely. "_Love-me chain!_"

Taken by surprise, Nephrite was yanked from his steed by the heart-shaped links. The winged equine galloped between its master and a white-hot beam of bright intensity before dissolving back into dark mist. Thwarted, Sailorvenus blew her breath out irritably. "_Crescent Beam!_" she shouted again, but Nephrite was ready this time. With a loud sizzle, the laser reflected violently off the blade of his claymore and Sailorvenus was forced to dodge the rebound.

Nephrite spared half a thought for the burns where the _chi_-charged chain had wrapped itself about his chest, back and arms. His mouth thinned into a grim line and his eyes flashed dangerously at the newcomer, her ginger skirt swaying as she pressed a kiss to Sailormoon's hand, murmuring what looked to be apologies and shooting a suspicious look at Tuxedo Kamen that melted quickly into stunned comprehension.

Seizing his chance, Nephrite charged Sailorvenus, somersaulting over several more of the laser attacks before he used his momentum and gravity to bring the blade down.

_Clang!_

Tuxedo Kamen's longsword was almost beaten aside as the heavier claymore met its match in a clash of sparks, but Nephrite let out a roar of pain as the lethally-sharp stem of a thorned rose pierced his palm through. Taking advantage of his pain and subsequent distraction, Sailorvenus looped her chain about his neck like a noose and drew it dangerously tight. The auburn-haired Shitennou stilled as he realised just how close to death he was.

Kunzite tore out several roses from his own arm, and, ignoring the flow of gold-tinged blood, ground them to dust beneath the heel of his boot. The King of Empty Space roared out his defiance as his wounded brothers responded to his summons, teleporting to his side.

Jadeite sported several bruises, and his lips and skin were blue from cold. Obviously, Mercury had refused to let her sudden 'greenery' in warfare hamper her efficiency with her natural element, and there was a chunk of flesh and skin missing from his collarbone, mere inches from his jugular.

Zoicite bled sluggishly from gashes in his sword arm and thigh. A cut above his brow caused him to blink away tears of blood, and his left wrist was limp. There were several nasty burns on the right side of his face; his hair, eyelashes and eyebrows were singed and the skin was raw.

Nephrite was relatively unharmed save the injuries inflicted on him by Venus and Kamen mere moments before, but his face was pale with exhaustion – summoning the shadow-wolves had used up much of his stamina, and each time one was destroyed, the backlash pained him.

Kunzite had fared the worst of all – Tuxedo Kamen's sword had pierced through the muscle and bone of his shoulder and the arm hung limp. His features were drawn with poorly-concealed agony and burns from the masked man's had half-cauterised a slash across his chest. His cape had long since been discarded as hampering his agility.

As unpleasant as the generals' wounds were, the battle had also taken its toll on the senshi and their dark-clad ally. Sailorvenus alone was unharmed due to her arrival mere moments earlier.

Tuxedo Kamen suffered several flesh wounds in his side and a hastily-parried stab injury had resulted in a long, though shallow, cut that ran from his right hip to the opposite shoulder. His tuxedo was in shreds, and a pant leg's ripped material intermingled freely with gold-tinged blood not unlike that of his enemies', courtesy of a shadow wolf he had not seen in time. Shaky and weak on his legs from blood loss, Kamen nevertheless met Kunzite's silver gaze steadily as golden sparks pooled in his wounds and began to meticulously knit skin and muscle back together. His extraordinary, subconscious ability to heal himself was almost certainly the lone reason he had not yet fallen.

Sailormoon also bled thinly from mild bite marks, and her arm, previously wounded by the Sun King, continued to ache and throb. A strip of black and red material – torn hastily by her dark-haired companion from his cape – stayed the bleeding for now, but for some reason she could not fathom, her exhaustion ran beyond bone-deep. Bruises and cuts marred her pale skin, and she could only turn her head so far to the right before she flinched.

Mercury's limp form lay where she had crumpled from exhaustion and pain immediately after Jadeite had responded to Kunzite's call. Only determination had kept the stalwart warrior from fainting before she had, and she was beaten badly – Jadeite's mercy permitted him to use only the flat of his blade, but they were harsh blows.

Sailorvenus did not allow herself to spare the bluenette a glance until Sailormoon's pleading gaze landed on her. Shooting the battered, yet defiant Tuxedo Kamen another wary glance, the senshi of love made as if to move to Mercury's side, but spotted a white-haired figure lift her gently. Venus recognised her guardian and saluted him, her smile widening as she saw a small black cat sitting on his shoulder. '_So you've found Luna, Artemis. I hope your reunion was a happy one._'

As if hearing her blessing, Artemis looked up from his half-scolding, half-warning of a few civilians and policemen to stay away. With a wry grin at Venus and a flash of silver-violet lightning, the Mau warrior was gone, Sailormercury and the dark feline with him.

Both sides were silent now – spectators and policemen alike peered out from various hiding places to observe the fight more carefully.

The bruises and smaller scrapes Tuxedo Kamen had gotten had healed over completely, and with a swift motion he discarded his tuxedo jacket and vest, ripping the severed suspender straps away to lessen the already-remote chance of tripping. A moment later, his bowtie fluttered to the ground; he stood in his shirtsleeves and slacks, hefted his sword again and, to all present, it seemed that the glistening weapon had perhaps grown longer and broader with his presence. Fire erupted about its lethal edge, and the dark-haired man smiled coldly, dark eyes glinting behind his untouched mask.

Kunzite's expression twitched with what looked like amusement and contempt. He himself stepped out of his cumbersome grey uniform jacket, his white hair glowing red-orange as the sun continued to set. A pale eyebrow arched in mockery as Kamen's gloved hand tightened its grip on his sword. The challenge had been issued and received; the gauntlet thrown and retrieved.

The terms were unspoken, but there in the other's eyes. Should one win, the defeated would retreat and take with him his allies. There was too much blood shed already – it was better this way.

_No!_ Emotions raged down the link as Sailormoon's normally gentle manner towards her protector soured and broke. _**I** am the challenger – you are tired –_

"So are you," he whispered out loud, and then steel flashed bright in the encroaching twilight. _But it is my duty and my trial._

For almost twenty minutes the two fighters' swords clashed even as the sun sank lower towards the horizon. '_The boy is good,_' Kunzite admitted to himself. '_Very talented –_' parry, riposte – '_very well trained –_' the two strained against each other as their weapons locked, a test of strength.

Freeing his sword and taking two steps back, Kunzite slid his blade down against Kamen's in an attempt to sever or mangle the younger man's fingers, though a difficult task with the hilt guard in its way; Kamen broke contact completely and instead aimed his next blow at the white-haired general's side. '_– Now where could a ningen have found such teaching?_'

Dodge a strike, feint a thrust – '_But still –_' beads of sweat dotted their foreheads, and they broke apart yet again to circle the other in hopes of catching their opponent unawares. There was no use of energy in this fight – it was a test and trial purely of swordsmanship and honour. '_– Only a boy. Here he comes now –_'

Having lost the desire to wait any longer, Kamen lunged – the keen edge of Kunzite's sword drew a thin line of red across the darker man's throat; he found the point of Tuxedo Kamen's blade apply dangerous pressure to the vulnerable point beneath and behind his chin. Blood welled up and both men froze.

_Stalemate._

"Well fought, _young master Kamen_," Kunzite snarled, and the addressed raised an ironic brow.

"Most evenly matched, _Your Highness_," he mocked, and continued to smile even as the blade at his throat pressed closer and blood trickled down to stain his once-pristine white shirt.

Sailormoon emitted a strangled noise and made as if to step forward, but Sailorvenus was there, her arms wrapped protectively around the smaller blonde's slim frame, holding her back. The moon senshi slumped as Venus began to murmur reassurances and devotion, but made no move to push her away.

"Perhaps it is so," Kunzite replied, acutely aware of blood – _his_ blood – running down the insolent brat's sword. "However, I can slit your throat before you yourself realise you are _dead_." The last word was spat out viciously and Kamen's smile turned decidedly grim.

"Mayhap it be so," he snapped, eyes burning with blue flame behind the white half-mask, "but I swear to Gaia I'll spit your head on _my _blade as my last action."

_Stalemate_.

* * *

_**Glossary**_

**_Ite — _similar to 'itai'; the difference between 'ow' and 'ouch!'**

**_Mizugameza — _The constellation Aquarius, the Water-Carrier. **

**_Aiyoku to hikari no, seerafuku bishoujo senshi! Sailorvenus! — _For the passion of love and light, I am the beautiful sailor-suited soldier! Sailorvenus!

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**A/N: Review, please. /bounces hopefully/ You have no idea how much we slaved over this chapter... /puppy eyes/.**

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	7. Higure na Soukai ni Saishutsu Suru

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**A/N:** Pigs have flown, badgers are social, and Jikkan-chan has published something on her own again! It's called Clues from a Crime Scene, and is a Detective Conan/Case Closed shortfic, which may be found over at Wren Truesong's profile (which is in our favourites).  
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**And I was only teasing about the flying pigs and social badgers. /winks/ Anyway, we're _back_, minna-chan! It doesn't matter that Jikkan-neesama's cable went down (as did half of her city's population's) for an entire three days! We still got the _9000 word_ chapter out in… how many days was it? _Four_! See, now's just a little before midnight, and I'm going to get up early in the morning to post this thing. /Pats chapter fondly/. **

**Anyway, Three updates in four days! Those of you who haven't seen _Endymion's Heritage: The Golden Crystal_ please do so: it ties in directly with this story, actually. There'll be a longer version of the tale Artemis told in chapter four, but for now, _please review!_**

**Chapter dedication: to Gamlain, who, when Jikkan-chan's cable returned but still couldn't make the temperamental Yahoo messenger work, functioned as a go-between for the two of us. Thankee Gam!

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**VI – Higure na Soukai ni Saishutsu Suru**

_**Renewal in Twilight Waters

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'_When she stepped into moonlight, silver pooled in her wounds and she shuddered before steadying; I saw that her hurts had disappeared, and knew Selene had blessed Her daughter._'

– An eyewitness account of the legendary Sailormoon in the Crystal Wars.

* * *

Artemis' reappearance had woken memories long-dormant, but she could only watch helplessly, trapped in her feline form, as her husband bustled about the empty house with steady intent. He had located bandages, disinfectant and an ice pack, but his eyes kept darting nervously about; he was obviously itching to return to the battle, and his charge. 

Luna felt a stab of jealousy at that, and quashed it viciously. '_Such joy when he returned to me!_' she thought, and lowered her cinnabar gaze. '_And yet…_' A pair of callused hands lifted her to a hard chest, and she was purring before she could quite register it, rubbing her head into his touch.

"Hoshizora-neko," Artemis whispered, and Luna trembled with longing and anguish as he set her down carefully. "Koishii, can't you try… human? Onegai?"

The black cat's small limbs shook uncontrollably when she tried to do as her beloved asked, but collapsed as a searing pain made itself known in her head. "I cannot, I cannot, I cannot…" it was a mantra; it would keep her from the pain –

"Beloved, do it for me, do it for the Princess, do it for this silent, foreign Trickster." Artemis was in his tomcat guise again, affectionately nuzzling her as their tails entwined and swayed gently. "Mercury needs help – help I cannot provide. You are a healer –"

"Was. Were. It's all in the past, Artemis; I can scarce breathe in this form!" Luna cried. "I used to transform to feel the grace, the beauty, but now…"

"You can do it," he was human again, the general who had fought tooth and claw to get to his loyal army, to warn them of the ambush. The general who had closed his eyes in despair at the consequent slaughter and attempted to escape the guilt by using the cat's more detached emotions to dim the sorrow and loss. The general who had courted and wooed Luna, a stern-eyed matron before her time, and brought the shy maiden hiding in her to the fore with his hot kisses.

Filled with the desire to be able to hold him with _her_ arms, gaze upon him with _her_ eyes, love him with _her_ body, Luna felt the sorceress' power crackle beneath her skin, her fur standing on end as her tail lashed and her mouth parted in an open snarl –

– And then she was human again, gasping and sobbing on the cold floorboards as Artemis held and rocked her, but there was no time for a proper reunion, one of lovers. There hadn't been when she had seen his white form padding up to her, heard his voice for the first time in a thousand years, and there wouldn't be until the immediate battle was over. She had debriefed him quickly on the situation in Tokyo – what he hadn't known since they had last spoken to one another as Central Command and Agent One.

Standing briskly, Luna wiped her tears with brisk efficiency, suppressing the tsunami of emotion she felt as the young woman caught sight of her attire – a yellow and black sundress down to her knees – and remembered that she had worn it even as the Silver Millennium crumbled to dust, and only she, Artemis and Her Royal Majesty had been left.

Seeing Mercury's injuries, she flinched again at witnessing one of Serenity's guard and her most mischievous sister lying so still. Luna felt Artemis squeeze her bare shoulder lightly, and let out a muffled moan as his lips covered hers in a passionate kiss before he turned to go, presumably back to the battle.

Sailormercury let out a scream of denial that froze him in his tracks – "Matte, onegai!" she shrieked, and went into such convulsions that Luna, though stronger than the average Terran man, could not hold her. Artemis wavered, but returned to his wife's side to assist as he could, though at times he merely stared into space, and Luna knew he was trying to see the fight using the faint link he possessed with Sailorvenus, who he had sworn loyalty to before she had allowed herself to trust him, for she had been Sailor V before he had come.

"How fares your ward?" she murmured, wetting a cloth so that she might clean the dirt from the bluenette's face.

"Venus is strong – she has always been." Now that she was human again, her insecurities fled and she felt only contentment; the jealousy was gone, although his tone was inexplicably proud as he spoke of his ward.

"What do they call her in this life?" Luna inquired absently even as she looked about in cupboards for herbs to make a poultice. To her dismay, there were only little cylindrical, metallic objects with no visible seal to break, and she muttered a curse.

Artemis held back a laugh. "Luna-ko, I'm pretty sure pre-cooked chicken-noodle soup will be very helpful if poured in Mercury's wounds. And her civilian guise is named Aino Minako."

"Chicken-noodle?" she muttered. "It sounds disgusting… is it some kind of poultry gut?" Now that her memories of the Silver Millennium were returning, they were scrambling the knowledge she had acquired in the present and she was pretty _sure_… "As for the name, it's very appropriate."

Suddenly realising she had been searching through the store of canned food in the kitchen, she muttered a curse she had learned from Artemis and sat down next to Mercury's now-tossing form, murmuring nonsensical reassurances as bright _chi _flowed from her fingers into the bluenette's restless body. The shattered bones were gathered and reassembled meticulously, bruises vanished and scrapes disappeared.

That was when Ami woke up; seeing a foreign woman with dark hair and expressive blue eyes standing over her, she struggled feebly before recognising the healer's touch, and stilled.

"Where's my cat?" Her words were slurred, but surprisingly coherent. Luna checked Mercury's head for signs of a concussion all the same squeezing the ice senshi's gloved hand.

"It's me, Ami-chan – Luna. This is my husband, Artemis… he came with his own charge, Sailorvenus. He's going back to help the other senshi even now…" Brushing a lock of blue hair out of the girl's sweaty forehead, she signalled to Artemis that he could leave now that Ami was awake and aware. Feeling a feather-light kiss on the top of her head, right between two of the four buns on her head, Luna couldn't help but smile widely. "You're no longer alone," she crooned, and Ami would have fallen asleep were it not for a frightening thought.

"Luna-san! Warn…" she felt exhaustion overcome her in waves, but forced her eyes open again. "Sailormoon! Warn her and Tuxedo Kamen… and whoever else! There's a youma in the waves – Mizugameza – Aquarius… pulls you down…" She was already half-asleep, but the last words hissed out through her teeth. "Warn… stay away from the water…"

Luna blinked and glanced at Artemis, who was already sinking into the almost meditative state one needed to induce teleportation. "Artemis?"

"Hai, I got it," he murmured, and disappeared.

Luna gazed at the spot he had disappeared from for a long time. "Stay safe, koishii…"

* * *

"We are all tired," Tuxedo Kamen's smooth voice cut through the sudden silence, and he paused in annoyance as the blade at his throat cut deeper. Shooting a baleful stare at Kunzite, he continued: "We are all injured; your comrades are exhausted, as are mine. Why not withdraw and continue this meaningless conflict another day?" 

Kunzite was about to reply when pain tore through his head, and only his carefully-cultivated self control prevented him from spitting himself on the blade tickling his chin. As a torrent of negative energy revitalised him, the white-haired general felt a faint itching as the cuts and bruises healed over and vanished, muscle and bone knitting back together. A quick glance showed that his brothers were also well again, and he turned an ironic smirk on Tuxedo Kamen, whose implacable gaze had flickered briefly to show dismay before hastily reasserting itself.

"You were saying?"

Beryl's voice resounded loudly in her generals' heads. **_I have waited long enough for victory, Shitennou, and I will have it now. Go forth…_**

Venus' eyes narrowed, and she made as if to move forward when Nephrite's hand yanked her back by the hair and the dangerously-keen point of a dirk was placed to her temple, his strong arm wrapping tightly about her neck and cutting off her air with cold efficiency.

Memories of long ago – training on the moon with her sisters – rose to the surface, and Venus' instincts kicked in. A yowl of fury rent the air as she glowed like a small sun; her entire body shone with the force of her attack – "_Crescent Beam!_" she snarled, and Nephrite yelped, his grip loosening ever-so-slightly as the light burned him.

Kunzite's nod indicated that Jadeite assist the Star King, and a feline hiss spat unladylike curses as Sailormoon found herself locked in hand-to-hand combat with Zoicite. Her entire forearm was swollen now, the once flawless skin marred by streaks of poison that inched slowly towards her shoulder and blackened her fingers. Zoicite's grip tightened on her injured arm and she let out another string of curses, spitting in his face and clawing with fingernails made harmless by the tattered gloves on her hands.

However, when the code of chivalry is breached, there is always blood to be paid. Tuxedo Kamen, upon seeing Sailormoon in agony and beyond exhaustion within Zoicite's unapologetic grasp, narrowed his eyes coldly. Before Kunzite could properly register the blur of black and red, his opponent had slipped away — though not before leaving a deeper nick in the Space King's chin, and pain blossomed in Kunzite's side and sword hand as three roses found their mark.

Jadeite moved forward to intercept Tuxedo Kamen, mounting a rare and powerful offensive that drove the startled warrior backwards so that they fought in vicious circles as Kamen attempted to return to Sailormoon's side. Jadeite, on the other hand, steered his distracted opponent onto a disused, rickety pier whose brittle supports rocked and bucked under the two fighters' weight.

As the bone-jarring impact of steel upon steel seeped through the air to dry his mouth with dread, Tuxedo Kamen chanced a quick glance over his shorter adversary's shoulder to observe the battle behind him. Alas, the blond general had been awaiting such an opportunity, and now drove the point of his sword into the younger man's thigh, prompting a roar of surprised pain and Tuxedo Kamen's subsequent attempt to flee into the air in the vain hope that he might gather his shattered wits to mount a counter-attack.

Jadeite, however, followed him, and when Kamen attempted to bring his sword up in a shaky block as the black-bladed weapon arced down, a blast of dark fire accompanied the katana's keen as it whistled an eerie melody through the air. Though Tuxedo Kamen managed to block the physical blow – that of the katana's tainted steel – his concentration to remain hovering above the darkening waters was broken as the blaze of dark energy enveloped him. He toppled from his position in the sky, a hoarse cry torn from his throat as he plummeted to land with a large splash in open water.

The entire harbour's occupants froze to watch, Sailormoon darting away from Zoicite with a stumble only to turn a stricken gaze seawards.

The waves churned into an untameable frenzy as he was welcomed by Mizugameza's glowing eyes and cold embrace.

For one long, breathless moment, Tuxedo Kamen's gloved hand clawed desperately at the sky, a fruitless plea to live, before the black waves claimed him. His descent into the ocean was marked by a furious stream of bubbles that gradually ceased before stopping altogether.

Sailormoon collapsed to her knees, staring numbly at the spot where her most stalwart and constant protector had gone under. A hesitant touch on her shoulder by a sympathetic Sailorvenus seemed to break Moon out of her trance, and a sudden scream tore itself from her throat, the blonde shooting to her feet and fighting against Venus's restraining grip.

For a moment, it was not a raging golden-haired warrior in a red and blue seerafuku they held back, but a girl wearing a gossamer gown with crystal tresses and tearful lavender eyes who keened her grief to the distant skies. The name that fell from her lips was foreign yet familiar, and screamed with such intensity that all who heard her grief felt their hearts wilt with sympathetic despair.

"ENDYMION!" she howled, eyes wild and movements increasingly frantic. "Gods, not again!" she said more softly, and the life seemed to fade from her with each tear. "Not again," she repeated numbly. '_Help!_' she begged, unsure of exactly whom she was asking but asking all the same. '_Help him; help me… help **us**… sister senshi, where are you?_'

* * *

He was too late. 

Artemis' eyes widened in an almost-panic and denial, grasping desperately at the boom of a yacht as he watched the horrific events unfold.

**_NO!_**

The voice was screaming the voice was _screaming _the voice was **_screaming _**so loudly he could hardly hear his own thoughts, and he recognised the keening wail as Serenity, to whom he was linked through the crescent moon on his forehead and Sailorvenus, her close sister. The senshi of Love's face was contorted with a sort of inner agony as everyone – even the triumphant Shitennou – watched, frozen with disbelief that it was so _easy_…

Too _late_.

**_THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!_** The fragment of soul that was Grace – that was Serenity – continued to howl, insane with shock and grief, and the shard of Duty – Sailormoon – cried out as her consciousness was stricken from her body.

Tears were running down Venus' face, and Artemis wanted to curl up in his feline form, escape the agony coursing through him as Grace, usually so sweet and compliant, fought Duty and struggled to the surface. '_Father Chaos preserve us, for surely your daughter Gaia shall not if her son, champion and lord has fallen. Mother Cosmos forgive us, for surely your daughter Selene shall not if her grand-daughter perishes with Endymion._' Artemis closed his eyes and began to pray.

* * *

Kunzite turned dispassionately from Sailormoon's despair-filled form and his heart gave a weak twinge before he quashed it completely. These were the bitches who had almost robbed him of a brother, after all. "Jadeite, remain here for the time being to harvest some energy – Beryl should at least be appeased by that. We'll pick off the others one by one next time." 

"Why don't we just finish them off now?" Zoicite asked, eyes cold. He too, felt the stab of guilt and pity before thrusting it viciously away. "They're weak – their emotions make them so…"

"On the contrary, brother," Nephrite said quietly. "Grieving friends are vengeful ones. We would do well to leave while we can – these senshi are more powerful than we have given them credit for." With that, he shimmered away, followed closely by Zoicite and Kunzite.

Jadeite turned to follow – it would be foolish to take energy from a place full of angry sailor senshi. Concentrating and feeling his feet leave the ground, his attention wavered as the sea in the harbour exploded upwards, ten, twenty, _thirty_ feet in the air. Eyes widening in alarm, he looked to see Kamen's form _walk_ out of the watery pillar.

'_Well, _he_ looks a little ticked._' His second attempt to teleport away was halted as two gloved hands wrapped themselves around his neck, and with soft, slender fingers, began to squeeze mercilessly. Now desperate, Jadeite attempted to teleport again, only to be thwarted – he should have been able to leave, and take her with him, but the chit was _grounding_ herself so that he couldn't leave without ripping out a good chunk of the Earth's crust. Any attempts to move his arms or hands were made futile by bands of energy that bound the former to his sides and the latter behind his back.

As his vision filled with dancing white spots, he saw Kamen stop perhaps two paces in front of him. Jadeite's panicked kicks were blocked, and suddenly the taller man's build shimmered and the soaking shirt and slacks melted into black plate armour inlaid with silver over a black uniform tunic and breeches. The mask disappeared, but the cape was still there, fastened by two cloak pins shaped in the likenesses of seven-pointed stars.

"I called for you, but you did not respond," the stranger snarled. Jadeite noted dimly that he wore a crown of braided crystal, the points of tiny swords lost in his untidy black hair. He _knew_ this man. "I summoned you to my side, but you did not come."

Jadeite tried to answer, but the hands around his throat tightened uncomfortably. He choked, drawing the man's attention to his predicament; the golden gaze rose to a point over his shoulder, and the stranger smiled.

"Serenity-koishii, kindly release him. He is mine to deal with as I see fit."

The grip loosened, and Jadeite wasted no time in drawing his katana, but his sword was caught by a strong hand. Cobalt eyes stared into rapidly-darkening sapphire as the hand of the man who had been Tuxedo Kamen wept gold blood, but he forced the blade from Jadeite's hand, and ran him through with his own.

Then Jadeite breathed his last and his body dissolved into silver-grey dust that was blown away in the strong sea breeze; a small, uncut green stone the size of a thumbnail dropped to the floor and Jadeite's executioner caught it with his injured hand. There was a muted flash, and the jadeite disappeared from the bloody hand and reappeared, clean and polished in one of the claw fixtures of his crown.

A moment later, the metallic lustre of Jadeite's katana faded and the weapon became a simple quarterstaff fashioned from oak. Endymion picked it up by its well-oiled black leather grip, and smiled reminiscently. '_Your beloved weapon, Jade… and you have finally returned to my side._' The small green stone in his crown crowed approval, but indicated concern for its brothers. '_I shall cleanse them too, now that I know you are yet my kin and not truly Turned._'

The Terran prince subtly twisted a small mechanism in the grip, and ten-inch blades sprang from the bronze-capped ends of the short staff. The jadeite made an excited clamour in Endymion's mind and he chuckled, dispelling the weapon in a shower of red-gold sparks before returning his attention to the watching senshi.

Endymion turned to Serenity, and he knew it was she because her eyes were the familiar, beloved lavender shade, though her floor-length tresses remained a rich gold. "How fare you, beloved?" he asked softly as Venus and Mercury warily approached them. "Are you well?"

"I am well, my Endymion, though fast fading," Serenity sighed as he cupped her face with his uninjured hand. "I have but seconds left now – and I have summoned my sisters twice. They should wake soon, and perhaps I shall, too…" The seerafuku-clad princess stood on tiptoes to kiss the corner of her prince's mouth, and then she stood back, lavender-blue gaze shuttering as she stood very still.

Venus stepped forward anxiously, but when the smaller blonde opened her eyes, they were again crystal clear and Endymion busied himself with wiping his blade free of blood, dark head bent over his task so that his anguish might be veiled, however thinly.

Jadeite prodded him mentally and, when his prince made no move to hasten the healing of the cuts the dark blade's power had inflicted, took over it himself, scolding his unlistening liege. When Endymion did not even seem to notice, mind obviously on Serenity's brief re-emergence, the green stone's chatter lapsed into childish sulking.

Venus and Artemis, the latter's clothes still stained with dirt and blood where he held Mercury scarce half an hour ago, conversed quietly, almost heatedly as Sailormoon reoriented herself. There had been warmth, and a power so blinding…

Sailormoon shuddered in longing as she remembered it. The presence that had moved with her body and spoke with her voice was familiar in a way that disconcerted her – it _fit_, somehow. Her eyes closed again, and she made as if to slip away, feeling sleep call to her. "I have somewhere to be," she muttered, and the words were familiar on her tongue – Sailormoon could sense she'd said or thought them many times since her awakening. "I have somewhere to be," she repeated, and Sailorvenus made as if to stop her, but a firm hand – Artemis' – on her shoulder prevented the senshi of Love from following Moon, who vanished quickly over the rooftops, her golden hair a beacon in the setting sun.

Endymion looked blankly after her, feeling the tug of sleep himself. War had conquered Stealth, but there was another facet he had not yet faced. That part of his soul was more powerful in this time than either – _Tuxedo Kamen, is it? _he asked Stealth, and it responded with a wry nod – or he, Endymion. Drowsiness washed over him in waves, and he felt Tuxedo Kamen pose a polite inquiry. At Endymion's acquiescence, his tunic and armour melted back into the tuxedo – once again flawless and clean – and Kamen took over.

Acknowledging the half-sheepish apology Endymion made for fighting him earlier, he swept the orange senshi a bow and the Mauian warrior received a respectful tilt of the head. "I believe explanations and clarifications seem indicated, if next time," he informed them curtly, and ignored Endymion's snickering at the formality of his tone. "Sarabada, Lady Venus, Milord Artemis," he added the latter name confidently, trusting in Endymion's memories.

As they watched him fade into the shadows, Sailorvenus cast Artemis a half-amused, half-quizzical look. "I get the feeling I'm missing a chunk of this," she murmured, and her guardian gave her an affectionate glance.

"Luna has enlightened me to the events unfolding in Tokyo," he said, giving his charge an affectionate squeeze of the hand. Looking around, they saw that a crowd of civilians had assembled to gawk. "How about we go somewhere a little more private?"

"That would be wise," Venus grinned, and a few moments later, Aino Minako stepped out from within a dank alley, her white tomcat clutched securely in her arms.

* * *

There was a dull throbbing all up and down her left arm when Usagi woke. Her vision was hazy, but cleared as she shook her head, though a painful crick in her neck made her whimper; her throat was raw, she had some kind of whiplash and her _arm_ – 

She barely bit back a scream when she saw it. It was swollen about twice the size of the other one, and had a shallow gash halfway down her forearm from her elbow that was weeping viscous yellow pus. Her fingertips were deeply bruised, and when she twitched them lightly, flared with a brief pain before going numb.

Usagi drew the sleeve of her black sweater back down over the injury – just remembering it was making her queasy. '_What am I going to do? I can't go to a hospital… how am I going to explain _this' she wondered desperately, still standing numbly before the arcade doors. She thought she saw Naru and Motoki conversing heatedly at the counter; just how much time had passed by? The others had probably gone home already… '_Demo… maybe I don't have a choice. Haha and chichi are going to flip… and so is –_'

"_Mamo-chan_! How could I have forgotten?"

She turned abruptly, forgetting that her schoolbag was still in the arcade's 'employees only' back room and ignored the throbbing in her arm, though she tried not to jar her neck too much. Mamo-chan was having the black-outs, too — Mamo-chan had a first-aid kit — Mamo-chan knew _everything_.

She would find him, and he would fix it — if he was okay, at least — '_Kami, onegai, let him be okay…_'

* * *

A roar of grief and fury was echoed by the white-knuckled fist slamming into black stone. Zoicite collapsed to the cold floor, wet eyes filled with a rage that was fast burning itself out. "HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO DIE!" the blond general yelled, heedless of the gold-tinged blood trickling down his split knuckles. He swiped at his tears, leaving a bloody smear across his face. "He didn't even say goodbye," the Youngest whispered stupidly. "He didn't even –" he closed his eyes and slumped. "He didn't even –" 

Kunzite felt his own eyes grow moist as he watched the Lord of Comets cry like a babe on the floor. He wanted to feel something – distaste for the useless tears; hatred for Jadeite's killers; disgust at the weakness Zoicite was showing… but nothing came. The Empty Heaven King was cold inside; though his tears were hot, they coursed down stony features. "Quiet, Zoicite," his whisper was almost lost in the younger man's sobs, but the effeminate general turned blazing green eyes on his brother and superior.

"Jadeite. Is. _Dead_." Zoicite grated. "You! You sent him to his doom! _You killed our brother!_"

Kunzite felt now. It was guilt worming and writhing in the emptiness inside, and for the first time in his life, Kunzite allowed himself to feel self-pity. "Yes," he agreed, and Zoicite fell silent, still glaring. Kunzite cleared his throat and his silver eyes were blank. "Yes," he repeated, but couldn't seem to say anything else. There was an apology on his tongue, but as all the other ones in the past, it never passed his lips.

What was he to say? How could one apologise for having sent his own brother to his death? Hypothetical situations never helped, and Kunzite was usually the first to say so, but how he _wished_… Jadeite's cheer would fix the gloom in this room, but the gloom was here because Jadeite wasn't and what was he thinking now?

Both fell into an uneasy silence fraught with tension. Kunzite's stony demeanour, upon reasserting itself, refused to be cracked, and Zoicite's sniffs ceased as he recovered his self-control. Eventually, Zoicite looked over to his white-haired elder. "Kunz – I apologise for my blatant subordination –"

"No, I fear your judgement is correct, no matter how wrong you were for making it." Kunzite's tones were clipped and curt again. With the return of his self-control, his eyes brightened, though it was not with joy or happiness. They were almost feverish in intensity, though he gave no indication that his soul was screaming as loudly as Zoicite's was at the loss of their bond-brother. "I should not have listened to – to that _bitch_." Kunzite turned to leave their chambers, his cloak swirling about his tall frame.

Zoicite moved quickly to stand in front of him, and although his stance was carefully respectful, his eyes were still red from grief and there were dried tear-tracks on his cheeks. "Kunzite – Kunz – Jade is with the Mother now. She will take care of him." The strawberry-blond smiled weakly. "He always did say that life as a stone was much simpler. But… if we ask Her…?"

Kunzite made no reply, but shouldered past the younger general, and the door swung shut behind him with the Eldest's words ringing in the Comet King's ears: "Not even Gaia can break the rules a second time for us."

* * *

Nephrite knelt, naked from the waist up, before a small altar in which eleven small, black orbs revolved over symbols etched in the black-veined gold stone. The dark globes had streaks of gold in them in contrast to the altar. Taking a ritual dagger of unpolished nephrite, newly sharpened on a whetstone, Nephrite stretched out his hand and called out to the one directly on the right of the empty space – there had once been twelve of the little capsules. 

As it hovered in front of him, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before the blade barely parted the skin on his palm and three drops of glittering blood dropped to the globe. Though he could not see it, each drop of blood drained the light in his eyes, and the summer sky darkened ever-so-faintly…

A haunting tune – one of waves and of ships dashed against rocks, and storms in the ocean – filled the air and a cold-eyed siren coalesced from the dark matter. She had no legs, but rather a tail that swished absently, and she bowed her head. "Master?" she whispered, and her voice was the melody of ages, ancient and mournful of things come and gone.

"Uoza," he greeted politely, his voice imperious although his face was lined with exhaustion. She tilted her head respectfully, blue-green hair shifting to reveal a tattoo on her shoulder.

_Pisces has arisen.

* * *

_

_: He is tired, poor thing. :_

_: Hush, let him sleep_. :

_: He is already waking_. :

Mamoru shifted uncomfortably, and wondered dimly who was speaking, and who it was waking up. Poor sod, waking up to all those voices bent over him….

_: I need pruning. :_

…Voices that wanted him to tend their garden, yet…

_: Leave him alone,_ : the second voice scolded the one with the greenery. : _Can't you see; he's injured. :_

Ouch, hurt too? Sucked to be him… If he was lucky, he didn't hurt as much as Mamoru did right now… then again, maybe he was the unlucky fellow in question…

_: No, no, Gaia heals Her son:_ the first voice said reassuringly. : _See the sparks. :_

Was she really? Well that was rather nice of Haha… he really was feeling worlds better, as if warm, gentle electricity danced over his skin…

There was something wrong with that thought, but damned if he could remember what… something about mothers…

_: Yes, he's waking. :_

Was he?

Hmph, so he was… draped over something metal and pokey and damned uncomfortable, no wonder he was waking up, if he had all these people talking over his head…

"D'appreciate you not talking as if I'm not here," Mamoru mumbled with quiet dignity. "Whoss a whole crowd of people doin' in m'apartment anyway…?"

_: You invited us, baka,_ : the one with the garden said acidly.

_: Hush, or I'll tell the aphids you like your stamens pruned: _the second voice hissed. _: …How do you do, Your Highness. :_

"Oh, marvellous, thanks for asking," Mamoru said with a yawn, "always wanted my own Greek chorus. …Anyone have any idea why I'm draped over my balcony railing?"

: _Perhaps you have very odd dreams_. : 

"Sounds about right," the boy said idly, heaving himself upright. "M'really starting to wonder what the hell Motoki puts in the milkshakes: rooftop acrobatics, talking rosebushes — next thing you know, I'll be pansying about in a tuxedo fighting monsters…"

_: Is he stupid or just very, very oblivious... :_

The other voices exploded into an indignant clamour that left Mamoru's ears ringing, and the fuzz in his head began to clear a little, though he had the _worst_ headache… and he wasn't oblivious. He'd just fallen asleep somehow and dreamt of fighting, and then thought about hallucinations induced by Motoki's food, which brought him to the arcade, which brought him to what he was doing earlier…

Mamoru frowned, eyes still a little glazed as he shook his head in a feeble attempt to clear it, only resulting in a larger headache. He stopped that quickly, though a nagging voice in the corner of his mind told him snidely that he wasn't sure where this train of thought was going, but that he was sure to _not_ like it…

To what he was doing earlier, then. He was studying with Motoki at the arcade, and then Usagi had walked out, and then – he had walked out after her?

'_It happened again!_'

"Tenshiko!" he exclaimed, and began to run inside, but stumbled over a few extra pots so that he crash-landed on the carpet, skidding several feet. Muttering several curses under his breath, he scrabbled to his feet, heedless of the shattered ceramic behind him; if he gave any thought to wearing his shoes in the house, it was brief gratitude that he wouldn't have to pause to don them again. He reached the entry as the bell rang. Already composing an excuse in his mind as to just why he was in such a hurry to go out right now, he flung open the door –

– and was almost knocked over as a sobbing Usagi threw herself into his arms.

His hackles rose immediately; he could feel her almost convulsive trembling as he wrapped his arms around her. Usagi flinched, and warning bells went off in the older boy's head. Mentally reciting another long string of curses, he picked her up and walked back into his apartment, toeing the door shut as he did. She was sniffling now, burying her face in his neck and murmuring things he couldn't really understand, but those subsided as he laid her on his bed and switched on the light.

Mamoru pressed a kiss to her temple, and she quieted, curling into a compact ball that shook and quivered, refusing to look at him. Feeling stung, and now even more concerned, Mamoru stroked her hair, which was matted with sweat and tangled into knots in several places, whispering reassurances.

"Mamo-chan, it happened again," Usagi whispered, and her eyes were strangely blank.

Frowning, Mamoru lay down beside her and took her into his arms, nuzzling at the back of her neck as he inhaled deeply, smelling the fear dissipating and warmth taking its place. He smiled against her hair, but when he shifted, she flinched again.

The expletive that flew from the dark-haired young man's mouth startled Usagi, who turned wide eyes on her best friend. "Ne, Mamo-chan?"

Mamoru's keen gaze didn't miss the way she cradled her left arm with her right. His eyes darkened ominously and he sat up and turned Usagi so that she faced him, grasping the sweater carefully and lifting it gently over her head, taking her hand by the wrist to examine the hideous wound. She refused to meet his eyes, and so did not see them flash a molten gold just before the tinkling of breaking glass was heard. Fresh rose petals fluttered to the floor as the crystal basin holding them simply disintegrated into sparkling dust.

Mamoru stared in disbelief at the mess on his bedroom floor and restrained the urge to throw something, leaving the room abruptly in a near-panic as he washed his hands thoroughly, disinfected them and gathered all the medical resources at hand. At last toeing off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket, he returned to Usagi's side and saw the she was dozing fitfully, though he had only been gone three or four minutes. Her eyes snapped open as he probed the wound with gentle fingers.

"Mamo-chan…?" she whispered. She winced, and he caught her hand with his and kissed each bruised fingertip gently.

"Tenshiko, I don't… you weren't hurt before – how could this have happened?" he muttered in disbelief. '_Squeezing all the pus out might work, but those black streaks… what _are_ they?_' Only his concern for her prevented the rage building up inside him from exploding, and rather messily so. "Ah, Tenshiko… how does it feel?" He probed the streaks and tried to hide his dismay. '_There's never been anything… how? If she was poisoned… but no. How could she be? The youma?_'

"Mamo-chan?" she repeated blankly. Her voice was slurred now, and he closed his eyes in self-hatred and pain.

"Hai, Tenshiko?"

"Can I sleep? 'm very, very tired…" She was breathing evenly now, and he pressed her good hand to his chest tenderly, vividly aware of just how helpless he was. He should call the hospital – he should let his superiors take care of it –

_No._

Maybe he was being foolish, or stubborn, or simply very selfish, but... Something in Mamoru was adamant about not letting her out of his protection, was deathly certain that the moment she was out of his sight, she would come to some kind of harm. "Hai, Tenshiko, just a little longer… demo, before you do, let me take out some of the infection first, ne?"

Mamoru led her to the bathroom, running warm water over the cut and murmuring praises for her courage and fortitude. Bracing himself, he felt his heart sink as her scream echoed faintly against the tiled walls, but continued to squeeze the pus from her arm, the warm water washing the mucus away. Usagi suddenly sagged against his chest, but he didn't stop – she had only fainted, and he had to rid her of as much of the foul yellow-white stuff as he could.

Mamoru only stopped when blood alone flowed from the wound – though he could do little about the strange streaks beneath her skin – and washed it carefully, dabbing at the gash with a piece of gauze and tucking her into bed before phoning her parents and feeding them an excuse about Usagi crashing at his place for the night so that he could help her with her homework. It wasn't the first time he had called for that reason, but this time Mamoru felt that with every word spoken, he was betraying the true reason behind the call.

At last he hung up, sliding down the wall he had been leaning on and burying his face in his hands. Unable to stand the feeling of being enclosed any longer, Mamoru slipped out onto his balcony and grabbed a pair of shears. As he made as if to clip off the end of a broken flower-stem, he froze.

_: The Prince is back. :_

_: How is the girl. :_

_: Yes, how is the Angel. :_

Mamoru's mind blanked again as voices assaulted his mind and he let out a decidedly unmasculine whimper. "Voices in my head," he muttered disbelievingly. "I'm going crackers…"

_: 'Hearing voices', he says. Honestly, I don't think there has ever been a more thick-headed human in all of Terra's history. :_

_: I've _had _it with you! Respect the Prince or _else... :

Mamoru fled back into the relative safety of his apartment, opting to check on Usagi rather than face the arguing phantoms.

There was a silence, and two of the three rose plants rustled agitatedly. The white one broke the silence.

_: You don't think we've offended him, do you. :_

The unusually thorny dark red one scoffed. : _How _that _could have offended him, I don't know. :_

_: What do you have against him?_ : The one with pink-tinted peach blossoms asked angrily.

_: Nothing, really… it's just that these bloody aphids are getting on my last leaves! And I _still_ need that pruning. :_

The white and peach ones sighed exasperatedly at their sulky sister, and when Mamoru returned to shut the doors, he fancied he saw two sprites rolling their eyes at a third and blinked.

But there were no faeries – only faint giggles and three rose plants swaying gently in the breeze, and he turned to go back indoors.

* * *

Ami came rather muzzily to consciousness, and wondered vaguely where she was. It couldn't be her own room at home; the light was coming in at the wrong angle, the ceiling was unfamiliar, and she wasn't sure she recognised that coffee table, at least not with the white cat draped over it… 

No, wait, there was one of her mother's prescription pads, poking out from under the somnolent feline (Haha must have been very tried indeed to be so careless; she'd have to put that away once she could stand up)… and this pattern of lumps hitting all the right pressure points at the small of her back could _only_ be their couch — but she didn't think she'd ever seen the living room ceiling from quite this angle before. She was sure she'd have noticed the crack in the ceiling that looked like a rabbit.

"Are you feeling any better, Ami-chan?" Luna asked from somewhere uncomfortably close to her ear; after a moment, she realised that the black cat had curled up on the cushion beside her head.

"Hai, much," Ami said — or tried, anyway, before it was lost in a cough.

"Here," an unfamiliar voice said, holding a straw to her lips. Ami slurped gratefully: oh, marvellous; fresh chrysanthemum tea, at the perfect temperature.

"Arigatou na," she said after a moment, looking up to her helper —

— and froze as she met the amused blue gaze of a complete stranger.

Oh dear _Kami_ there was a _girl_ in their _living room_ and she'd heard Luna _talk_ and Ami was still in her fuku!

Panic was an emotion heretofore completely unknown to the normally-composed bluenette, but she made an excellent first try.

"You're quite welcome," said the unfamiliar girl, smiling brightly. She was beautiful, at least; long blonde hair, those bright blue eyes almost as lovely as Sailormoon's, a perfect figure well-complemented by a ginger-skirted seerafuku…

Wait a moment.

_Seerafuku_?

"Are… you a bishoujo senshi?" Ami wondered timidly.

The girl grinned down at her. "_Aiyoku to hikari no, seerafuku bishojou senshi Sailorvenus_," she introduced herself; a crescent moon sparkled on her forehead as Venus made her a little bow. "Douzo yoroshiku."

_It's nice to meet you. Please be kind to me. _

"Ha…hajimemashite," Ami said dumbly. "Ara, Sailormercury desu…"

Venus looked a little sad at 'hajimemashite', but seemed to shake it away almost immediately. "Hai, hai, I know! I've been wanting to see you and all the others for so long, though it's sad that our first meeting in this life was under such unpleasant circumstances…"

Ami winced. 'Unpleasant'. Yes, she supposed that was a word for it… "What happened after I fainted? Is everyone all right…?"

Venus rocked her hand back and forth. "Well, yes and no… there was a brief moment there when we thought the handsome fellow in the snappy black number might be dead, but —"

"He was _what?_" Mercury shrieked, almost sitting up but promptly regretting it..

The golden-haired senshi looked alarmed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maa, maa, Mercury-chan, not so quick or you'll undo all Luna's good work… Hai, we thought he was, but he wasn't, don't worry! He came right back and killed Jadeite to work off his snit…"

Ami felt dizzy, and wasn't sure if it was the blood-loss or the exposition. "Jadeite's _dead_…?"

The white cat rolled his eyes; the movement brought Ami's attention to the crescent moon that matched Luna's and Venus' on his forehead, and she was thus only dimly surprised to hear him speak in a fondly-irritated baritone voice. "Venus, perhaps you should recount the tale from the _beginning_ before you bewilder poor Mercury's head right off?"

Venus laughed brightly — the sound warmed Ami's insides to hear it. A dim longing woke inside her, to tell such tales and play such tricks as to make that laughter double and redouble until the marble halls rang as if there were a thousand delighted girls and not just four….

Marble halls?

Four?

Ami puzzled at the longing, but put it away until it made more sense.

Venus settled herself on the divan and began to speak. Her first impression was that of a girl almost as genki as Usagi, but once prodded by Artemis into 'business mode', she was clearly as capable a soldier as Light or Passion could have wished, calm and factual in her report —

– but the tale was still so fanciful, so beautiful and tragic and fantastic, that Mizuno Ami didn't think she could ever have credited it without being a Senshi herself.

At some point during the retelling disguises were shed, and snacks fetched; Sailorvenus was revealed to be Aino Minako, and was promptly introduced to Ami herself, who was as glad to meet the one as Mercury had the other.

"…and then they both just vanished:" Minako said at last, adjusting her grip. When Ami had begun to squirm uncomfortably — even the Shiatsu Couch wore thin after prolonged use — the taller girl had promptly insisted that Ami use her chest as a backrest; once the girls were settled, she'd produced a hairbrush from nowhere in particular and began to tidy Ami's hair.

The bluenette had to admit that the regular strokes did feel very good.

"You didn't try to follow them, did you?" Ami wondered sleepily.

She could almost hear the pout in the slightly-accented voice. "No, no; I wanted to, but Artemis wouldn't let me…I wouldn't have followed her to her _house_ or anything, but I did want to be sure she was alright…"

Ami sighed. "I understand, but …I'm just somehow certain that trying to discover them before they tell us who they are would be …_bad _— as if revealing them would —"

"Would be tempting the light to go out of the world," Minako said softly.

"Yes…" They fell silent, contemplating the rare premonition; for a time, the quiet rasp of the ivory-backed hairbrush was the only sound.

Ami sighed gently and cautiously allowed Minako to bear a little more of her weight; the blonde girl didn't protest, and Ami relaxed a bit more. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt more secure in her life… Sailormoon might manage it, perhaps, or Usagi, but when could such a thing as this ever happen…?

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Minako asked, apropos of nothing, and startling Ami quite out of her wits.

"Eeh?" The question was so surprisingly _normal_ that she couldn't quite comprehend it.

That all the blood that had been in her brain had suddenly rushed to her cheeks had absolutely nothing to do with it, of course.

Minako's voice was sly. "A boyfriend, Ami-chan! A koibito, a significant other, a lover…"

Ami was sure she was glowing like a traffic signal. "N-no, no one like that…" Had anyone ever asked her that question? Darn her allergy to love letters…

"Not even a friend with benefits?" Minako teased, and giggled at Ami's wordless squeak. "Gomen, gomen; you were just so _cute_… How about a crush or three? Or five?"

"Not nearly so many as _that_, Minako-chan," the bluenette said shyly. "But… there is this one boy…"

"Quality over quantity, Ami-chan? Say on, say on!"

Ami giggled. "He's a senpai at my high school—the Student Council President, and the Captain of our swim team… Very tall, very handsome — almost bishonen — wild black hair, gorgeous blue eyes, reads physics texts for fun —"

"Ne? Ne?" Minako said eagerly. "He sounds like just the man for you —"

"Except that he's so very _obviously_ taken," Ami said with a wistful smile. "His girlfriend's my new best friend, actually, and they're so sweet together… Or _would_ be, if they didn't go around telling everyone they're best friends."

"Oh, it's _that_ kind of relationship," her new friend said knowingly. "They've known each other since they were babies, right?"

"Since he was eight and she was six, if I recall correctly."

"Babies," Minako reiterated. "Best get your handkerchiefs ready — one or the other will actually look at someone else for more than thirty seconds, and then your best friend will be begging to use your shoulder as a crying towel — until he comes to his senses and finally asks her out."

Ami tilted her head to look upside-down at her backrest. "You think so?"

"Hai, hai, if my instincts tell me true. That's the way these things always go."

The girl genius pursed her lips. "Perhaps when Usagi-chan does require my services, the crying towel should try telling her to ask Mamoru-senpai out herself?"

Minako grinned. "Clever, clever… who knows? It just might work… All right, so there's one unrequited crush down for the boys, much to their credit; any more boys of high enough quality to catch your eye?"

Ami's blush, once faded slightly, returned full-force. "Iie, no boys…"

"That's fine, make 'em work for it," the blonde said cheerfully. "Now, how about girls?"

Mizuno Soumei's daughter took a moment to reflect gratefully that she wasn't drinking anything at the moment; if she had, it would surely have been spread all over the couch by now. "N-nani?"

Minako poked her gently. "Do you just not listen, Ami-chan? Girls! They're just as cute and much smarter."

Ami giggled weakly. "I _heard_ you, Minako-chan, I just didn't believe my ears… It's a little surprising to be asked that, ne? It's not as strange as it was, but people can still get really…"

"Hai, hai," her companion said sadly. "But I am the Goddess of Love, and I see no gender boundaries!" She grinned down at the bluenette. "So spill."

Ami once again went pink. "Well… Usagi-chan is very pretty, and there's just… something _about_ her — she's sweet, and kind, and gentle, and was the vice-captain of the Chess Team, and so… so _warm_… Mamoru-senpai will be a very lucky man when he finally gets down to it… and then there's… well…"

"Oh, there's a _well_, is there? This should be good."

The genius took a sudden profound interest in her fingers. "Well — you've met her, actually, though you may not have seen her at her best — so strong and lovely, and so _gallant_…"

She waited for the laugh, but Minako was silent.

A bit nervously — being the Goddess of Love was one thing, but unknown senshi were quite another — did Sailorvenus not approve? — Ami turned to look at her backrest.

She wasn't sure what sort of expression she had been expecting — laughter, anger, disdain — but it wasn't this.

Not this quiet, gentle smile – was that _sympathy…?_

"She is, isn't she?" Minako said softly. "All those things, and more…"

Ami's eyes widened. Could she..? "You, too?"

Minako nodded solemnly.

"But, you've only just met…?"

The smile sharpened, becoming a no less beautiful or gentle grimace that nevertheless seemed to tear at the flesh that bore it. "Oh, yes, me too… and we've _both_ known her, my darling girl; we've known her for ever and aye."

"We… we _have_?" Mizuno Ami asked, bewildered; but something deep in her heart said, _Yes_.

"We have, and we do, and we will; because herein is the whole and the sum of the thing, our duty, our beloved terror, and our joy. We love her because we were made to love her, and that is why Luna told you, I'm sure, as she once told all of us, that you've no time for boys, that you have a higher calling than that," she said with a fond grin in the direction of the sleeping cats, curled up together in a mound of white and black fur such that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

"It's both so much more simple and more complicated than that, you see… you're welcome to love, and to dream of nice pectorals and abs —" Minako mock-leered at Ami, who blushed a little more even as she listened, rapt — "Demo, believe me, you won't need to, and you shan't want to. There's a reason the Senshi of Sol are the most unattainable women in the universe…"

Ami tilted her head. "…because we all love the Princess?"

Minako nodded once.

"But — Minako, I don't love the Princess, I've never _met_ the Princess — you said we both have a crush on Sailormoon…?"

Minako laughed gently. "Oh, Ami-chan, I forgot that you don't remember, as I was meant to, and that you weren't there to _see_ her in something closer to her true glory —"

"You _saw_ her? You saw the _Princess?_"

"Saw her, helped her, love her!" the Goddess of Love said joyfully. "Ami-chan, don't you realise? Our gallant and glorious Sailormoon, the _Ai to seigi no bishoujo senshi —_

"Ami-chan, my love, she _is_ the Princess."

* * *

It was early in the morning when Mamoru woke, and he threw aside his covers, stretching so that several joints popped loudly. Wincing at the noise and checking to make sure it hadn't woken Usagi, he blinked, seeing that the gauze he'd wrapped around Usagi's arm had somehow unravelled. Getting to his knees, he shuffled over towards the edge of the bed before something metallic caught his eye and he inhaled sharply. 

There was silver stuff in the cut – silver like the moonlight shining on her hair so that it was more platinum than gold, and her injured hand was an almost muddy colour as opposed to her usual porcelain-pale complexion.

Mamoru got up abruptly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he leaned closer, watching as she gave a drowsy shudder and there was a small flash – and when the sparks cleared from his vision, he saw that the wound was gone.

Hardly daring to believe it, sure he was hallucinating, just like he had imagined those voices, Mamoru brushed a lock of hair from the sleeping face. Sooty lashes fluttered and Usagi's eyes opened languidly. Mamoru recoiled as he saw that there were no pupils, no irises – all of it, even the white sclera, was a blinding, sparking silver.

"Tenshiko?" he asked tentatively, quietly.

And that was when she began to scream.

* * *

_**Glossary**_

**_matte — _'Wait!'**

**_chichi — _One's own father.**

**_haha — _One's own mother.**

**_douzo yoroshiku — _'It's nice to meet you' (Literally, 'Please be kind to me')**

**_hajimemashite — '_How do you do?' (Literally, 'It's our first meeting')**

**_genki _— 'Energy; vitality; spirit; pep'. Can also be used as an adjective for people; think Usagi at her most happy and bubbly and you've got the idea.**

**_koibito _— 'lover; sweetheart' **

**_bishonen — _beautiful boy

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**A/N: A hundred and sixty-one reviews… /swoons/ Wow! Thank you all _so much_… but we're hoping that this will boost it to a hundred and ninety, two hundred at best. C'mon, just a line or two… onegai for the Marvellous Mouthful who worked so hard?

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**_PLEASE REVIEW!

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	8. Senmou ni Yume wa Tan

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A/N: Kon'wa! Jikkan-chan desu — hehe, ohisashiburi desu, ne? (It's been a long time, hasn't it?) Jikkan-chan has just started her trig classes, and is a bit behind on her homework because her textbook took so long to arrive, so she didn't do so very much of this chapter as she would have liked — but Arashi-chan came through like the trooper she is!**

**There've been a lot of questions and comments in our reviews about our Japanese policy and why we spell certain things the way we do. For the Japanese, Arashi-chan wants to learn, and Jikkan-chan needs to teach to keep her comprehension level up; each word that appears in a story will appear in a chapter glossary of that story exactly once. If we don't translate it in the glossary, that means we think it might be fun if you find out what it means yourself /grin/ – don't worry, our Easter Eggs are _generally_ not essential to the plot. /only slightly evil smile/**

'**Sailormoon', etc, is something Jikkan-chan saw in her raw manga volumes; she found it charming and immediately adopted it as a conceit. She has an argument if anyone's interested, to the tune of the use of katakana in loanwords in general and Takeuchi-sensei's in specific, but in the end, it comes down to this: Naoko-sama did it first, and Jikkan-chan thought it looked neat. /waves poetic license about/**

**This chapter — Jikkan-chan's favourite so far — is dedicated to all our reviewers, most especially _Insanity's Whore_, who gave us our 200th review and defended us with such great enthusiasm. Domo arigatou gozaimasu, Insanity-san!**

**A note by Arashi-chan: REVIEW/grin/ We're aiming for 225 to 230 reviews this time. /begs/ Help us?   
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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**VII – Senmou ni Yume Wa Tan?**

**_Of Delirium in Dreams_**

* * *

'_When we were selected by the Mother Gaia to guard and watch her son, we were given names in accordance to our qualities and station. Jadeite, of laughter and nurturing warmth, is the Healer, though his bedside manner leaves much to be desired… Zoicite the Comet, of cool logic and quick mind when faced with fire's threat, is the Strategist, but every bit as hot-headed as our Sun brother. Star Lord Nephrite, of benevolent watching and mystic strength, is the Sage… and I? I am the Empty Heaven King; the Blademaster, the commander who is trusted to make decisions no man should make – but we are not men. We have always been much, much more – such was my Lady's intention, and so it shall be._'

– Kunzite the Blademaster; Space Shitennou of the Four Brothers

* * *

Mamoru held Usagi's struggling, convulsing body to his chest. Though she had stopped screaming when he had picked her up in an attempt to soothe her, she jerked against his tight embrace and his cheek stung from where her hand had flailed out and scratched him. Pressing his forehead to Usagi's flushed face, Mamoru noted with growing alarm that her temperature was warmer than usual, and he swore that even as he kicked open the bathroom door and turned on the cold water tap with a fumbling hand, she was heating up by the second.

"Tenshiko," Mamoru began, and cleared his throat as he felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment. He shook Usagi's jerking form lightly, ducking a slap. Rubbing her back in gentle circles, he spoke above the running water. "Tenshiko, little angel, wake up…" A hand came up to push errant bangs away from concerned sapphire eyes – remembering the unearthly shade of silver Usagi's eyes had been when she had screamed so loudly, their owner was half-afraid she would obey. "Onegai, for Mamo-chan?"

Usagi whimpered, and squirmed unhappily in his grasp. "_Iie!_" the blonde's shriek echoed off the porcelain tiles, and her fair skin was flushed a bright pink. "_Doushite? Iie…_" Usagi's words were cut off abruptly as she kicked violently, and Mamoru could only tighten his hold on her for fear that she might do herself harm – and the fever was _still _escalating! '_Delirium,_' he thought faintly, even as her next scream wiped all thought from his mind. "_Endymion!_" she wailed, and then she was sobbing into his shirt, pressing close as she clung to him and her pain made something in her dark-haired friend's chest constrict painfully.

Mamoru closed his eyes, feeling her continue to cry and tilting her face towards his to place a tiny kiss on the end of her nose. "Hush, hush, little one," he whispered in her ear, and she stilled for a moment before going rigid.

"_You have slain my sisters and my people_," her voice was strong, and Mamoru tried to ignore the way his skin prickled warningly at her defiant tone. "_You have destroyed my homeland and poisoned the minds of my beloved's brothers… you have taken my Endymion from me…_" there was a pause, in which Mamoru relaxed his hold on her a little, and then Usagi's voice rang out again.

"_But you shall never triumph over _me_! There is little satisfaction and no honour in killing a dead body – beloved sisters, Endymion-koishii… I come…_" she fell silent then, limp and boneless in his arms, and only the frantic pulse fluttering in her white throat reassured a horror-stricken Mamoru that she was alive…

And then he was suddenly engulfed by a rage that was his and _not_ his at once – and an emotion all-too-familiar, though he could not quite name it.

_Jealousy,_ a cruel voice somewhere in the back of his head sneered. _You've always been jealous – of Motoki… of Naru, even, though you know Usagi would hardly love them more than you. You've always been a dog in the manger, Chiba Mamoru… and now she's talking suicide and burning up with fever! And you have the audacity to be jealous of a man who _doesn't exist_ –_

'_That's enough,_' he told it firmly, but his hands were shaking as he removed the sweat-soaked long shirt he had dressed her in for sleeping in before he paused. "Kami-sama," he muttered, staring at her underwear. He lifted a bra-strap experimentally and hastily withdrew the offending hand. He'd taken showers and baths with her before when they were younger, and there was that time they went skinny-dipping in the lake near the mountain resort Mamoru had taken her for last year's birthday surprise…

Squeezing his eyes shut determinedly, Mamoru turned the murmuring girl over and attempted to undo the clasp on the undergarment – only to open them again half a minute later when the damned thing simply _would. Not. Come. **Off**_! How did girls wear these things, anyway? Mamoru had the feeling that were the situation not so dire, and he himself almost panicking at their predicament, he would be laughing hysterically at his own ineptitude.

Finally losing patience and simply pulling the stubborn… thing… over her head, Mamoru averted his eyes hastily from the expanse of flushed, bare skin and removed her knickers as well before picking his very naked best friend up and lowering her carefully into the tub of cold water. It was half-full, and he turned the faucets off, cast Usagi an anxious look and darted into the kitchen to retrieve some cold apple juice from the fridge, diluting it heavily. Some went into the bathwater, but she swallowed most of it, licking parched lips as her eyes slid closed and she began to shiver.

"_Endy,_" she whispered, struggling feebly and turning blank eyes to meet Mamoru's suddenly anguished ones. "_Why is it so cold, Endy?_"

"I'm here, Tenshiko," the older boy cupped her face and tried to communicate something, anything, to his delirious friend. "Mamo-chan's here…" '_Strength, perhaps?_' Was that what he wished to her? But Tenshiko was already strong… _Only you don't want her to be, do you, Chiba Mamoru? The knight in shining armour…_

"Shut up!" he shouted, and only when Usagi flinched beneath his fingertips did he realise he had spoken aloud. "Oh, _damn_…" Removing his shirt, which was beginning to chafe at his skin, Mamoru leaned forward to pick up a soft face-towel, wetting it and pressing it lightly to her forehead. "Don't be scared; never be scared, not of Mamo-chan…"

"'m not," he heard her whisper; Mamoru couldn't help the grin that lit up his face, and he sighed in relief when he realised she was sleeping peacefully.

When Usagi's fever broke several hours later, Mamoru washed her unbound hair and the rest of her as best as he could without blushing fit to light up all of Japan from Kyushu to Hokkaido. He studiously avoided the secret place between her legs, but scoured the sweat from the rest of her body before bundling her up into a towel and selecting yet another of his old shirts for her to wear.

When he pulled her previously-injured arm carefully through the sleeve of the makeshift nightgown, he saw that the streaks had not faded at all, but spread further up her arm, though her hand and wrist was free of the blackness.

Frowning darkly, Mamoru looked at the king-size bed, on which Usagi looked very lonely, and back towards the pile of blankets that had served as a pallet of sorts. Chuckling wryly, Mamoru slipped under the covers next to Usagi, grinning broadly as a small hand grabbed at his shirt, a small body cuddling up to his. Wrapping his arms around her, he settled back and wondered what he would tell Kenji-papa and Ikuko-mama when Usagi didn't show up for school.

* * *

Osaka Naru was not a person ordinarily given to worry.

As she saw it, she had no particular cause; she had a relatively privileged life, good friends, good prospects, and a relationship with her mother so close that she had never really noticed the lack of a father figure in her life; whatever the reasons for his absence, they did not seem to trouble Osaka Hariko, and thus never troubled Naru.

But just a few weeks ago, that had changed — her mother had been attacked and replaced, her own home under siege, herself and her best friend threatened, said best friend utterly _gone_ one moment and fainting the next…

…and suddenly Naru found herself with a cornucopia of troubles; she might not have been any sort of worrier in the past — '_but with all this practice,_' Naru said to herself with a certain amount of grim humour (also something heretofore unknown that she was becoming skilful in with distressing rapidity), '_they'll be having me fret for Japan…_'

"Mamoru-kun hasn't been to school," Motoki said tersely; the rest of the Oak Grove Lunch-gumi nodded a little worriedly around him.

'_And here we find my fellow champion._' "He's looking after Usagi," Naru told them, settling under the tree and smoothing out her skirt. "I called her mother after first period."

Her statement was greeted by the expected chorus of surprise; Asanuma's only stood out because, after Saori (who had never raised her voice in her life), he had the highest pitch. "He's _looking after Usagi-chan?_" the junior blurted. "What _happened?_"

"An awfully high fever, according to Tsukino-san," Naru told them, opening her bentou. "She was staying the night —"

Motoki's expression abruptly went from 'concerned elder brother and best friend' to 'murderous elder brother'. "Usagi-chan was _all alone?_ At his _apartment?_ I'll —" At that point, the facts seemed to catch up with his brain, and he deflated just as rapidly.

'_And _that_ would be 'Toki-kun remembering that Mamoru-san has held claim to the position of Usagi's Overprotective Older Brother for longer than our favourite soda jerk has even known she's alive._'

Kobayashi broke the sudden quiet with a loud guffaw. "Mamoru-senpai is giving his little angel some _Tender Loving Care_!" he sing-songed with a lecherous leer.

A smirk bloomed on his best friend's face and the emerald-eyed blond struck a pose. "If she's got a fever then I bet he gave her a spo-o-onge ba-a-ath!" Asanuma cackled, and Naru resisted the urge to giggle though her conscience reprimanded her.

Surprisingly, it was Ami, quiet, shy, withdrawn Mizuno Ami who cuffed Asanuma upside the head with a dainty hand as she came up, an unfamiliar blonde in tow. She blushed furiously as several pairs of eyes fell upon her. "He shouldn't speak of Usagi-sa – Usagi-chan like that," she protested, and there was a yelp as Saori 'accidentally' dropped her very thick, very heavy unabridged Japanese-English dictionary on Kobayashi's foot.

"Agreed," Saori's lips twitched into a rare smile, and she ignored Kobayashi's subsequent, dramatic swoon into a recovered Asanuma's waiting arms. Smoothing out her pleated skirt and replacing her dictionary in her knapsack, she looked carefully at her companions. "Now, has anyone taken notes for the two of them? The school has high expectations for Mamoru-san, and skipping it to take care of a friend, though admirable, could go either way in their opinion of him, depending on whether or not he keeps up with his studies."

At her hint, Naru, Ami and Motoki produced several stapled-together papers for her inspection, and Saori nodded in approval at Ami's neat writing and labelled diagrams. "Which classes do you have with Usagi-chan, Ami-chan?"

"I had English and Geography," the bluenette smiled, uncommonly pleased with herself and her foresight, though her cheeks coloured afterwards. "Demo, there's an upcoming pre-test on Geographic regions in Japan, and a worksheet to complete."

Naru blushed. "I had English with Usagi too, but my notes aren't as good, so Ami-chan took them… Oh, and math class. No homework assignments, just review for a trigonometry quiz."

Saori looked over Naru's notes critically, but pronounced them competent. "And you, Motoki-senpai?"

Motoki handed them over sheepishly, and Saori sweatdropped. "Ah… I'll take these for now," she muttered, and the sheaf of wrinkled papers and chicken-scratch disappeared into her briefcase before she stood. "I've got a meeting with the student council, now, since Mamoru-san isn't there. Don't get into too much trouble," she paused a little here, and the group saw her shrug slightly. "Kobayashi-kun, don't be late for Law class." With that, she strode off, adjusting the strap of her knapsack on her shoulder.

Everyone turned to grin at Kobayashi, and the redhead shifted uncomfortably. "Nani? Why are you looking at me?" Looking a little desperate, he looked over Ami's shoulder and blinked. "Oy, who's your friend, Ami-chan?"

Ami flushed, realising that Minako had been listening in amused silence to the entire exchange from the moment they had walked up to the group and Ami hit Asanuma for his impudence. She shot a quick look at the golden-haired girl, who smiled reassuringly at the bluenette in return. "Minna-san, this is Aino Minako – she's in my grade and is an exchange student from England. Minna, meet Minako, Minako, minna."

The blonde bowed, and the others returned it, if a little belatedly. "Aino Minako?" Asanuma and Kobayashi shot each other gleeful glances. "You're that girl who plays Sailor V, aren't you?"

"Damned shame Usagi-chan isn't here – you're her idol."

Minako laughed. "Domo," she answered, "demo, you might say I'm retired now." She and Ami exchanged meaningful looks.

Motoki was scrutinising Minako with a curious air. "She looks a lot like Usagi-chan, actually," he commented. "Could be a long-lost sister for all we know."

"I'm an only child, sorry," Minako winked, and Motoki blushed a little as he realised he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. "Iie, it's okay," she added when he opened his mouth to apologise. Shrugging, Motoki sat down again and offered some rice dumplings to a hungry-looking Asanuma.

"Anou… Ami-chan and Naru-chan, if you give me Usagi's notes I can drop them off with Mamoru-kun when I stop by to give him his," Motoki offered graciously before a large sweatdrop appeared on the side of his head. "Once I get them back from Saori-san, that is," he muttered. The group sniggered collectively and Ami shifted hopefully.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I'd like to check up on Usagi-chan myself," she fretted worriedly, and Naru nodded in agreement.

Kobayashi let out an excited whoop. "You've never been to Mamoru-senpai's flat yet, have you? Kami-sama, it's big, it's well-furnished –"

"It's disgustingly _tidy_," Asanuma finished with a wicked grin. "We have so much fun threatening to trash the place until Mamoru-kun chases us off with a frying pan — still wearing that frilly apron Usagi-chan made him."

Ami blinked and couldn't hold back a smile. The bluenette could hardly imagine the serious and admired Chiba Mamoru doing such a thing, but then an image of the upperclassman in question wearing a lacy apron and yelling threats at a retreating Kobayashi and Asanuma while wielding a ladle in one hand and a cast-iron skillet in the other appeared in her mind. Ami stifled a giggle only by dint of much effort.

It was settled. Kobayashi would get the notes back from Saori when he saw her in Law class later and the rest of the gang – plus Minako – would come along with Motoki to drop them off. Minako didn't mind being 'used' to cheer Usagi up. Indeed, after listening to tales of how enamoured the younger blonde had been with Sailor V when younger, Minako would probably have begged to meet the girl that the entire group spoke with such enthusiasm about.

Motoki covered his eyes with a hand. "Kami-sama, Mamoru-kun is going to kill me," he mourned, looking at his companions and counting them off. "Aino-san, Ami-chan, Naru-chan, Kobayashi-kun, Asanuma-kun… and me. That's _six_ people coming along!"

By the time school had ended, the group of six became a party of eight; Saori had insisted on coming along to fill Mamoru in on the student council news, and Reika, after Motoki had called her to apologise and explain why he might be late to their date to the movies, had greatly surprised her Knight of Soda Water by meeting them on a corner four blocks away from their goal.

"Kon'wa, 'Toki-chan, minna-san!" she said brightly, forestalling her boyfriend's inquiries by shoving an enormous bag into his hands. "Carry that for me, please? It's a bit heavy…"

"I noticed!" Motoki grumped cheerfully, adjusting his balance. "What've you got in here, bricks?"

"Cookies," she said merrily, blithely ignoring his tease.

"_Cookies?_" the blonde asked incredulously. "How many did you make, fifty dozen?"

"No, only three — and some pastries, a big thermos of chicken soup, some cream cakes — well, there _should_ be cream cakes; one never knows around Kinomoto-san…"

He boggled at his girlfriend. "Where — why —"

"Home Econ.," Reika explained. "Kinomoto-san heard part of our conversation, and convinced Sensei that we should have a class on food gifts one makes when coming to another's home, especially if they're sick. Everyone was very enthusiastic."

"I don't think 'enthusiastic' is quite the word, Reika-chan," Motoki mumbled. "Mamoru-kun won't have to cook for a _week_…"

Most of those assembled snickered. Introductions were made, and the party continued.

"I hope that Usagi-chan isn't feeling too ill for guests," Ami-chan observed as they signed in with the concierge and made their way to the lifts. "Bad enough already that we're coming unannounced and without a greeting gift…"

"Ne, it's fine, Ami-san," Reika said reassuringly. "There's more than enough in the bag for things like that, and Mamoru-san won't mind as long as we can manage to cheer Usagi-chan up."

"Mamoru-senpai wouldn't mind a kitsune shaving him bald as long as it made Usagi-chan laugh," Asanuma muttered. "We've got nothing to worry about."

The lift disgorged them, and Motoki led the curious little throng down the hall.

"Wonder if he's awake yet?" Motoki mused, ringing the doorbell. "I got voicemail when I called earlier, so I assume he must have slept through the phone…"

"I wonder if I should be telling Furuhata-san to get _his_ handkerchiefs ready?" Minako murmured in Ami's ear. "If Chiba-san is so focused on her emotions, then making her cry and not knowing what he did wrong might well kill him."

Ami considered this, but any reply she might have made was lost as Mamoru opened the door. "Eh? Motoki-kun?… and Reika-san … and a whole horde of guests. Tenshiko will be delighted to know she's so popular — what're you all staring at?"

'_What'_ was the upperclassman's current state of dress, or rather, lack thereof. It was really a perfectly proper house robe, serviceable and modest, but in its current state — draped over an otherwise unclad-save-for-boxers Chiba Mamoru and only loosely tied — it left very little to the imagination.

Minako smirked appreciatively. "Swim team captain, I think you said?" she whispered in Ami's ear.

"Ah — hai," Ami said faintly, going rather pink.

Although the boys remained pleasantly oblivious to the ogling the girls were doing from behind their backs, Mamoru had obviously caught their exchange, for he turned a most becoming shade of scarlet and shut the door in their faces, muttering something about how he should have learned to look in the mirror before coming to the door, especially after that incident with the shaving cream, the neighbour and the towel –

Motoki shrugged and simply opened the door again; so harried was Mamoru, he had forgotten to lock it. "Make yourselves comfortable," the arcade manager said with a grin. "I'm sure the mother hen will let us see her – erm, _his _eggchick when he has finished finding something better than 'nothing' to wear."

Several of the assembled snorted at the terrible pun, but the others set to work on the mound of cookies Reika and her class had made. "Sugoi! I think I'm in love," Minako sighed as she sank gratefully into an overstuffed armchair, blissfully inhaling the scent of aged leather as Asanuma and Kobayashi skipped off to the balcony, cackling. Ami merely sat primly on the edge of her seat, exchanging meaningful glances with Naru and Reika.

"Crazy boys," was Saori's muttered conclusion, and all the present females, Minako included, nodded in fervent agreement.

Motoki was puttering around the kitchen, shooting occasional glances at the once-plain powder-blue apron Tsukino Ikuko had gotten Mamoru – to which hand-knitted lace had been lovingly, if slightly amateurishly, added – hanging in the 'hook of honour' alongside a full-body apron and several oven mitts. Shaking his head in amusement, Motoki poured the chicken soup from the thermos into an empty pan, adding more water, chicken-powder, chopped celery and sliced tomatoes to it as he did so.

That was when Mamoru poked his head around the frame of the bedroom door, having recovered from his earlier embarrassment and dressed in a loose T-shirt and sweats. "Tenshiko's awake," he informed them with a tiny scowl. "Careful – she's still really tired."

"Mou, we know the rules, Mamoru-san," Reika teased lightly. "Talking, but not too loud. Looking, but not too intensely. Listening, but not so much that she feels uncomfortable. Touching – _maybe_ a hug."

"And tasting is reserved for Mamoru-senpai!" a muffled male voice called, and Mamoru arched a haughty brow, straightening as he glared at Asanuma and Kobayashi, both of who could have spoken. He opened his mouth, most likely to scold, when a soft inquiry from the bedroom gave him pause. He darted out of sight again and Minako giggled slightly.

"I see what you mean," she murmured to Ami, and the bluenette could not hold in the broad grin.

"Hai, hai – Mamoru-san has eyes only for Usagi-chan, but you just wait! She's very enchanting."

"Whipped," Saori's dry-humoured interjection had the other four girls giggling madly.

"Beyond that," Naru whispered as they stepped into the dimly-lit room.

Reika's expression could only be described as 'starry-eyed'. "It's very cute – but using that word to describe it implies that Usagi-chan is violent."

"_Iie_," Naru and Ami burst out, and looked at each other before grinning.

Asanuma and Kobayashi, who had observed this conversation with something akin to amusement, were joined by a curious Motoki. "What's with all the laughing?" the elder blond asked.

"They're discussing who'd be the dominant figure in Usagi and Mamoru's marriage bed," Kobayashi smirked, and was promptly brained by Saori's briefcase. '_That girl gets more and more violent everyday,_' the swirly-eyed victim thought woozily.

"Are you coming in or not?" Mamoru's sharp prompt had the entire party of eight tumbling hastily into the room.

Mamoru was stroking the pale-looking blonde's hair soothingly as her breath came erratically, and placed a gentle kiss on the very end of her nose when her breathing evened a little. Finally allowing her to sit up, he offered her a cup of apple juice, which she accepted thankfully.

Minako blinked and froze as she set eyes upon the petite figure in Mamoru's huge bed, tucked lovingly in amongst the black and navy bedclothes and black sheets. She inhaled sharply as familiar-but-unfamiliar crystal-blue eyes gazed blearily at her.

"You look like someone I know," Usagi told Minako with a drowsy smile. The addressed blonde smiled, shakily at first, before it unfurled fully on her face.

"Hajimemashite," she greeted, and the word sounded false on her tongue – Mamoru looked up, eyes narrowed, though there was genuine joy in Minako's expression as she clasped the sick girl's hand in both of hers, forgoing the proffered handshake. "Watashi wa Aino Minako desu."

Everyone there could swear that Usagi's eyes sparkled even brighter as she attempted to sit up, fumbling weakly with the covers before accepting Mamoru's supporting hand. "Aino Minako?" the blonde repeated wonderingly. "I'm Tsukino Usagi – and you're my idol, you know," Usagi smiled shyly at the older girl, and Minako just about melted into a puddle of slush.

"Putty in her hands," Kobayashi muttered out of the corner of his mouth, and ducked behind Asanuma to escape Saori's briefcase.

"Usagi-chan has plenty of charm," Asanuma agreed quietly.

"Disarming girl, that one," Reika and Saori nodded, and there was a flicker of a smile on the latter's face.

"Minako-san, how about sharing with _us_?" Naru asked playfully, and the girls descended on her, even the normally-staid Saori shooing the boys out of the room – a protesting Mamoru had to be dragged out by Motoki – and shoving several pages of perfectly comprehensible, typed up and colour-coded notes at the grumbling, dark-haired senior as she did so.

Taking only a cursory glance at the notes, Mamoru threw them down on the coffee table and stalked into the kitchen area to tend the soup. With a sigh, he tore open a packet of pasta – with unnecessary viciousness – and muttered something about chicken-macaroni soup. Motoki, Asanuma and Kobayashi rolled their eyes at him and called out an invitation to try some cream cake. The offer of goodwill was rebuffed by an amazingly articulate grunt, and Kobayashi smacked Asanuma in the head.

"Ne, nothing to worry about, 'Numa-baka?" the redhead growled.

Asanuma sweatdropped. "Hai – nothing to worry about…" regaining his equilibrium, he got up to stand on a clear spot on the protesting coffee table, posing dramatically – "as long as Mamoru-senpai isn't separated from his _koibito _– ack!"

A piece of half-cooked celery sailed the necessary six metres from the kitchen island to land unceremoniously in Asanuma's dark-blond hair.

Kobayashi shifted uncertainly. "Erm, 'Numa? I think he heard you…"

Motoki twitched, sweatdropping, and pretended to look at Mamoru's previously-discarded notes in an attempt to pretend obliviousness.

"Ittou, _off the table_! Set the places for me, too," Mamoru's voice commanded.

"Shh… we better do as he says – 'specially since he used 'Numa's last name…"

"Nah, we only know it's bad when he uses 'Yashi's name, don't we, Seiko-man?"

Kobayashi growled at the mention of his hated surname and began to roll up his sleeves. "I'll give you 'bad', you baka –"

Right about then, there was a small crash accompanied by vicious swearing.

The three boys in the living room rolled their eyes, chortling. "He's cheerful today, isn't he?" a wry female's alto inquired as Saori stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her to shut out the giggles.

"Must be Usagi-chan being here," Motoki shrugged. It was somewhat amusing, really – Mamoru seemed to have about five moods in all. Grumpy: the mood when Usagi-chan wasn't with him. Sulky: the mood when Usagi-chan's time was monopolised by anyone other than himself. Cold: the mood when dealing with bakas and obsessed fangirls. Livid: the mood when Usagi-chan was hurt. Jealous… well, Mamoru-san was most unpredictable when he was jealous.

Then again, most of his mood fluctuations – both positive and negative – were to do with Usagi-chan. Otherwise, he was nigamushi no Mamoru – Mamoru of the Sour Face. '_Not really sour, I don't think,_' Motoki amended hastily. He grinned to himself as he began to lay out the place-mats and chopsticks. '_More like stone._'

"Chiba Stone-face, that's the one," Asanuma sniggered, and even Saori snorted, Motoki blushing as he realised he'd spoken aloud.

"At least _my_ stone-face is better than your kitsune one," a voice whispered in the blond's ear, and Asanuma leapt about three feet when he realised an amused Mamoru was standing behind him. He was only really in trouble if – yes, there was the apron – and there was the frying pan.

"It's a skillet, baka," Mamoru's mood was uncommonly light, but the strange look in his eyes did not bode well for the flippant-natured junior. "Cast-iron. Care to repeat that something about my face?"

"Iie, iie! It's a very _nice _face, Mamoru-san," Asanuma babbled, turning green. He muttered something about the washroom and a date with the porcelain goddess as he whizzed out of the room, the wind from his speedy movement ruffling Mamoru's dark bangs. Saori rolled her eyes again and re-entered the bedroom.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" Motoki questioned, yelping as the hot bowl burned his fingers. He set the soup down hastily and sucked the injured finger as Kobayashi brought in two more bowls.

The irrepressible redhead grimaced. "Whatever it is, there's bound to be a ton of serotonin and oestrogen flying around – don't go in there or your balls will mutate or something."

That earned him a light smack from Mamoru by the blunt end of a ladle as he set down the small basin of pasta next to the soup before the doorbell rang and he disappeared off to answer it, returning with several trays of sushi and sashimi.

"The wonders of free delivery!" Kobayashi joked as Asanuma exited the bathroom and plopped onto Mamoru's favourite reading chair, earning him an exasperated glower by the young man in question. Gulping, he got up and sat in the leather love-seat instead, grabbing a random manga volume from the small pile at the foot of Usagi's rocking chair next to the large fireplace.

"Why so much food now, Mamoru-senpai?" Kobayashi inquired idly, flinching back as a skilfully-wielded spatula by Motoki came down squarely where his hand been inching towards the spicy-tuna rolls just seconds before.

"I didn't eat today and Tenshiko eats enough for the both of us," Mamoru's tone was fond as he set down a large bowl of rice, but his expression soured abruptly as he cast another dark look at the closed bedroom door.

"_Sushi_, Mamoru-kun?" Asanuma teased. "Aren't you supposed to be muffling her in goose down and feeding her crackers and plain congee and diluted fruit juice?"

"'Numa no baka," Motoki snorted, "everyone knows that Usagi-chan will bat her eyes and pout at Mamoru-kun, and there will be a big puddle of Mamoru-kun-mush on the floor, and the tasteless rice porridge will be down the sink."

Mamoru's cheeks pinked, but as usual, he did not make any attempt to deny this accusation. "I wouldn't put her up in bed with _plain_ congee… I'd put some chicken in it…"

"See?" Mamoru sighed as Asanuma stole a piece of octopus sashimi, earning a cry of outrage from Kobayashi, who had failed to capture a single piece of the coveted spicy-tuna sushi for the last five minutes he had been trying.

Mamoru sank onto a stool by the counter and sighed. "Besides," he muttered, "you lot will clean me out as it is."

"That's because we _love_ you, Mamoru-kun," Motoki said gaily, slinging an arm about the drooping senior's shoulders. "And should someone tell the girls that it's time to eat? Though why you waited until four in the afternoon to have lunch…"

"Hai, I'll do that… and Usagi's eaten several times – it's just my turn."

"Meaning," Asanuma smirked as he grabbed a spoon, "that Usagi-chan is awake enough now to notice that her Mamoru no tenshi hasn't eaten yet."

The dark-haired young man ignored the jokester and stood up abruptly, knocked briefly on the bedroom door and entered when Usagi's voice acknowledged his presence.

The only sounds when he had left were of Asanuma gorging himself on the improvised chicken-noodle soup. Motoki felt a large sweatdrop slide down the side of his head as Kobayashi spoke through a mouthful of squid. "He's not going to get _his_ testicles mutated, is he?"

"'Yashi-my-man, Mamoru-senpai's got balls of brass," Asanuma said between bites. "Don't be too worried about him."

"Yeah, but oestrogen's a dangerous substance," the redhead muttered. "I should know; bloody sisters –"

"Quite literally," Asanuma grimaced. "It should be made illegal."

When Motoki felt as if he couldn't take the chauvinistic jokes anymore, he made a comment of his own. "Does that mean you'd rather have a testosterone-filled female instead of someone like Reika or Usagi-chan?" There was a short silence in which a sweatdrop appeared on the heads of the other two boys present. "Iie, I didn't think so."

* * *

"You're killing yourself, Neph," Zoicite snapped. "Locking yourself in a room full of youma eggs and using your own lifeblood – the lifeblood _She_ gave us – and playing that damned flute all day –"

"It's a piccolo," Nephrite said, lifting the aforementioned instrument to his lips as another three drops of golden-red blood seeped into the black globe and a thin melody that put one in mind of the cold iron of a graveyard's fence shrilled forth, undulating and uncoiling ever-so-darkly. Shaking his head in disgust, Zoicite exited the dark chambers and left the Star King to pipe to life a skeletal man with a steer's skull for a head.

Its unseeing eyes glowed a sickly red as the grisly apparition bowed, joints creaking as his tattered cloak fluttered briefly and a flash of something glittered across a scythe's dark blade.

"My Lord," it said, and the skull's voice was the creak of an ancient hinge come unwillingly to life.

Nephrite's eyes were almost feverish in their intensity, and anyone who had cared to notice at the time would have seen that the green-blue shade they had been scarce a full day and night ago had darkened ominously, if subtly. "Ohitsujiza," the auburn-haired mage acknowledged.

_Aries come on an autumn day, _the globes chimed, and Pisces smiled as she nodded to her brother. _And Pisces the Siren-souled with the Voice of tainted, tarnished silver…_

Nephrite shuddered and dragged a hand through sweat-matted auburn hair as he surveyed his two subjects. "I can do no more," he whispered before his voice firmed. "Not today, at least." He turned to Pisces and Aries and gave them a fond half-smile. "Tomorrow, the Minotaur joins us."

The heavy door swung shut with a dull finality.

* * *

"Mamo-chan!" Usagi had not been this relieved to see him in a long time; her eyes were full of panic and amusement at her own predicament. She held out her arms and he gave her a lingering hug.

"Daijoubu desu ka, Tenshiko?" he whispered huskily into her ear, placing a chaste kiss directly on her temple.

"Daijoubu, Mamo-chan," Usagi smiled up at him. The girls had been relentless in their questioning, and when Naru, ever blunt, had asked her why she wasn't wearing a bra… Usagi shuddered. It hadn't been all that harmful, really – just a little embarrassing. "I don't suppose there's any food you might give to your starving patient?"

"Salmon and tuna don – your favourite," her friend answered with a grin at her complaint, pushing her back down as she attempted to sit up. "Iie, you're still weak – let's get some soup into you first." Ignoring her protests, he lifted her easily, blankets and all, to stride out of the bedroom and put her in her chair, disappearing off to the kitchen to get her some rice to go with the sashimi.

"Is he always this golden to you?" an amused voice said in Usagi's ear. Suppressing the urge to yelp in surprise, the blonde looked up to gaze into a face very much like her own.

"Mina-chan!" she beamed before answering. "Hai, Mamo-chan's very sweet and kind… and we look after each other," Usagi finished solemnly before giving her new friend a conspiratorial wink.

Minako grinned, plopping down on the floor next to Usagi's rocking chair. "I'll bet you do," the older girl answered with a droll roll of her eyes. She lowered her voice and leaned close again. "Did you see him naked when _you _gave _him _a sponge-bath, then?"

Usagi buried her face in her hands in embarrassment, but found herself trying to stop the faint smile from unfurling across her features; Minako's laughter really was infectious. "Hai," she said, perfectly straight-faced. "It was a very memorial occasion, considering he was passed out and incoherent. When he woke up, he thought I was some girl he'd met at a karaoke bar a few months prior, and was very… uneasy to see me, and…"

Minako got to her knees, eyes eager and ears pricked. "And?"

"And I sure had you fooled there, didn't I?"

The other eight in the apartment, startled, looked up from their conversations and food as Minako burst out into full-throated laughter, her mirth accompanied by Usagi's quieter giggles.

"Must be the oestrogen," Kobayashi muttered, and was rewarded by a threatening glare from Saori, who was standing scarce three feet from him.

"To you, 'Yashi-kun, _everything_ is about the oestrogen," Asanuma and Motoki chorused, before the former laughed and the latter, buoyed by his arcade-manager habits, went to ladle out soup for everyone, placing one on a tray for Usagi.

"Usagi-chan, food. Mamoru-kun's held up in the kitchen; I'll go check on him, ne?"

"Domo, Motoki-niichan – you know Mamo-chan is simply incapable of taking care of himself around pointy objects and hot water, ne?" Usagi teased, her voice pitched to carry to the other side of the room. As if to confirm her statement, there was another crash of pots, plates and cutlery, and what sounded to be a loudly-spoken curse cut off mid-word.

Motoki winked at his friend and waved to Minako, who had signalled to him that she was going to get some sushi. "Hai, I know – Mamoru couldn't find his way around the shallow end of a swimming pool if he didn't have a float to hold his eyes above the waterline," he responded, just as loudly, and a tousled head poked up from behind the bar-style counter, a hostile look on its face, though the midnight eyes were grudgingly amused.

"Motoki-kun, if you would like yourself not to be drowned by the _swim team captain_ next time you go anywhere near a pond, lake or puddle, then get over here and help me clean up this mess _you _made in the microwave!"

"Mou, why so arrogant, Chiba-san?" Motoki called back, and was answered by an exasperated glare. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" the blond turned to Usagi, who had closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Usagi-chan?" she opened her eyes and accepted the tray from him with a faint smile. "Daijoubu desu ka?"

"Anou… hai, just a little tired," the younger girl replied, but her hand was trembling ever-so-slightly as she raised the spoon to her mouth, and Motoki took the tray back from her with a frown.

"Iie, matte – it would be a pity if you scalded yourself with hot soup because you can't hold a spoon straight," Motoki shot a reassuring smile at his downcast friend before a frown crossed his face. "Usagi-chan, you're sweating."

The blonde in question gave the normally happy-go-lucky Motoki a wry look. "That's ever-so-flattering of you, 'Toki-niichan."

"I'm serious, Usagi-chan," he countered, bending slightly so that their faces were a scarce six inches apart as he examined the sheen of perspiration and the rest of her face. "Your cheeks are flushed – I thought the fever had broken? – and you… you're wearing a long-sleeved shirt?"

Usagi froze and turned her head deliberately away. "It's very comfortable, and Mamo-chan doesn't have anything shorter," she finally said, referring to the loose button-up and pyjama bottoms she was wearing; both were from Mamoru's pre-teen days. She smiled a little at that thought – he was a shameless packrat.

"I thought your mother came by with some clothes on her way to the airport?" Motoki frowned, and Usagi blanched again.

"I –"

"Motoki-kun, stop prattling and fill the blue plastic basin in the bathroom sink up with cold water while I tuck Tenshiko back in to bed," Mamoru said sharply from behind the blond, causing Motoki to jump in alarm. "Why didn't you tell me that she's getting into a relapse? Did she eat anything?"

"Anou –"

"Do it _now_, Motoki!" Mamoru snapped, and lifted Usagi from the pile of now-warm blankets as her eyes fluttered shut and her head fell against his shoulder. "Tenshiko!"

"'m tired, Mam'cha," Usagi sighed, and he relaxed as he realised she was only dozing.

"Sleep then, and I'll get you something to eat later, ne?"

"No plain rice-porridge," her muffled voice reached his ears and Mamoru laughed shakily, holding her small form a little tighter as he sat down on the bed, stroking her hair mindlessly and accepting the wash cloth from Motoki with a murmur of thanks.

"Hai, no white congee," he promised, mopping away the sweat on her brow and glaring at all the guests to leave the room. "Unless you want a place on my hit-list, get _out_!" Mamoru's tone brooked no argument, and they were moving before they knew it, backing hastily away from the two on the bed. There was what sounded to be an argument, several frustrated voices speaking heatedly, and then finally the front door clicking shut.

Sighing as he pressed a cheek to her forehead, Mamoru closed his eyes and winced sympathetically at the temperature. '_Not again,_' he thought, and as his mind flashed back to the way he'd had to undress her, colour flooded into his cheeks. '_Not again!_'

Smoothing back the hair from her head, he stood again and left to run the bathwater. Returning with a glass of cold water and pleased to note that his guests had placed the left-over sushi and soup neatly on the table, Mamoru heard a violent hacking coming from his bedroom and bit his lip, trotting to a trembling Usagi's side. "Tenshiko?"

He was answered by more coughs, great, dry-sounding ones, but that was when she lifted her hand away from her mouth, and there was something black on it. His heart skipped a beat, and Mamoru felt his breath return to him in a _whoosh_ as it started again, an abnormally loud pounding in his ears. He reached her in two hasty steps, water and ice sloshing over his hand and onto the carpet, and Usagi turned glazed eyes to him before she slipped into unconsciousness.

He had just enough time to register that it was black, bloody phlegm on her hand – black like the streaks that showed on her collarbone where the shirt had slipped over to reveal a slim, white shoulder. "Tenshiko," he whispered, feeling oddly detached, and grabbed the wall for support as a golden power coursed through him, leaving him revitalised and lethargic at once. He stumbled back towards the bed, where his friend lay, before darkness claimed him and a mask slipped over shuttered ocean eyes.

* * *

Tuxedo Kamen made as if to exit the now-familiar dwelling, but paused as he realised that no insistent chord tugged at his heartstrings and soul. '_What in the Light's name –_' his hand moved to 'draw' his sword as he realised that there were two others in the room, one all too unpleasantly familiar.

_Stop, Tuxedo Kamen! _a voice shouted in alarm. _Don't harm him!_

'_Endymion?'_ Kamen questioned warily, eyes still on Jadeite. '_What is this… worm of worms doing here!_'

Meanwhile, Jadeite was blissfully unaware of the danger he was in as he examined his garb – a loose-flowing shirt of rough, undyed linen and a pair of black breeches. His black tunic had his personal crest (two white crows perched on a pair of crossed glaives over a golden phoenix on a field of verdant green) embroidered on his left breast, over his heart, and was lined with green wool for warmth. Jadeite struck a pose and preened.

"A millennium since I've had decent clothes, milord," he commented airily, and turned to face a blank-faced Tuxedo Kamen. Taken aback by his prince's silence, the blond nevertheless prattled on. "Those grey uniforms… and that evil red piping… disgusting," he concluded timidly as the younger man's continued silence finally alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. "Endy?" he ventured.

_See? He's perfectly harmless. _Endymion's tone was insufferably smug.

'_I beg to differ,_' Kamen argued. '_While _you_ were sleeping, _I_ – and milady – were the victims of _his _swordsmanship and elemental abilities.'_

_Yes, well, Jade's no swordsman, _Endymion snapped. _He's better with pole-arms –_

'_And that little titbit of information is supposed to reassure me?'_

_Well… yes…?_

At that moment, Tuxedo Kamen was aware that there was an insistent knocking on the side of his head, and he shook his head irritably. "Yoo-hoo, any-royal ho-ome?" Jadeite inquired in a singsong tone. Kamen's hands twitched as he realised it had been Jadeite's fist rapping on his temple. It would be so _easy _to just reach out and _strangle_ the damn nuisance –

_Don't you _dare his royal counterpart ordered. _By the love of Selene, why did it have to be _me_ who was the figment?_

'_And just _what_, pray, is that supposed to mean! For all I know, you do not exist_ – _you are just a bloody voice _in my head_!'_

Endymion let out a low growl and 'launched' himself at Stealth. _Gimme that body!_

'_Light, if you are a true royal, would you not be a little more diplomatic about the matter?' _Kamen was beginning to feel the beginnings of a truly memorable migraine as he felt War chasing Stealth about his mind. Was it just him, or was he slowly (but surely) going insane?

_I'm not a stuffed shirt like you! _

'_You are being childish!_'

Endymion tripped over a stray thought and came up sputtering, red with indignation.

_Me? _I_ am being childish? _You_ are the one who wants to kill my best friend!_ he bellowed.

'_He is the enemy!'_ Kamen protested as the chase resumed.

And it was back to full circle – until a startled exclamation from a bored Jadeite had everything coming to a screeching halt: "Hey, who's the wench in that there bed?"

* * *

_**Glossary**_

**_doushite—_Why? For what reason?**

**_minna—_'everyone'**

**_kitsune—_'fox'; mysterious and mischievous spirits in Japanese folklore, thought to have multiple tails and the ability to take human form at will. There are fifty zillion funny, not-so-funny, and downright horrific stories about _kitsune_; one of Jikkan-chan's favourites is the tale of a man who was so confused by a fox he challenged that in the end he wound up alone in the middle of a rice field, bald as an egg, with no idea whatsoever of what he had been doing or how he got there.**

**_sugoi—'_Wow_!' _'Unusual!' 'Amazing!'**

**_nigamushi_—making a sour face (as if having consumed a bitter bug)**

**_Ohitsujiza_—The constellation Aries

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**A/N: (Arashi-chan here this time, since Jikkan-chan is too humble and shy!) Okay, so you've read it – now REVIEW!**

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	9. Tanin to Au

**A/N: _VERY IMPORTANT_: JIKKAN-CHAN AND I HAVE STARTED A LIVEJOURNAL FOR THIS ACCOUNT! If you want sneak peeks/previews, spoilers, character profiles (particularly for the Shitennou) and chapter progress then _watch it for updates!_ It _will _be updated at _least _once every two days, but hopefully up to twice daily. The link if found on our profile under 'homepage'. If you want to add us now, our username is _arashinokakyoku._**

**Also, _Serenity's Heritage: The Silver Crystal_ has been updated. It details the rise of the senshi as well as the Heritage alone. So check that and _Endymion's Heritage_ out soon, ne?**

**If you opened our author alert earlier today and found that the link was invalid, my apologies. I know just how eebil that can feel, but someone reviewed, and after reading the criticism and then review the chapter – attached to the story – as a whole, I had to agree with her. It needed to be reworked. If you want the original, which has more humour and a more… Natsuko-y, EightofSwords-y feel (This is strangely appropriate, since I dedicated the chapter to them. /grins/), then go to our livejournal thingy and look at the entry under 'cut chapter'. This rewrite, however, is for _GoddessMoon_.**

**And now…**

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* * *

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**VIII – Tanin to Au**

To Meet with Strangers

* * *

'_Fire is beautiful. It is beautiful and deadly, and its undulating, flickering grace is fraught with danger. That is how I think of Endymion-ouji, my Princess' koibito. At times he is like a lazy cat at rest; one might think he would begin purring should Serenity-hime so much as lay a gentle hand on his arm… but threaten her, and you damn yourself – you are burning in Hell before you know it._' 

– Sailormars of the Inner Senshi

* * *

Tuxedo Kamen froze, 'looking' between Jadeite and Endymion. "Milady?" he spoke for the first time, and approached her warily.

Endymion, however, had his mind on other, more important things. _He called her a wench!_ the Prince raged, but subsided, his tone magnanimous as he addressed Kamen. _On second thought, you can kill him now._

'_Be serious!' _snapped Tuxedo Kamen before ignored the nagging voice at the back of his head in favour of examining the girl in the bed – '_Nay, not Milady,_' he realised with a small smile. '_Not quite… and she is garbed in the clothes of a man?_'

He sent an idle inquiry towards Endymion as he watched her sleep. '_How is it that I am here, awake, and she is not?_'

The royal was quiet for a moment as he felt about for any disturbances in the immediate vicinity, then farther out into the city. _I think I know. There is someone sapping energy from the trees, the flowers, the waters, _he informed Tuxedo Kamen. _As for our being awake when Sailormoon is not, I have a theory. _

When he did not elaborate further, Tuxedo Kamen prompted him. '_You have a theory…?_'

_Yes. The Royals of Terra have always protected Earth first and foremost while the Moon watches over our people. At the present moment it is Earth who is being harmed, and so we wake to defend. When Sailormoon woke first, it was because the youma were targeting areas that could harm civilians._ There was a moment's pause, and then Endymion's voice spoke again, sounding strained. _I think the culprit is Zoicite. He is the only being in the galaxy with an energy signature that reeks of Terra, frost and heat._

The black-clad young man drummed his fingers on his cane's pewter knob as he considered this. "Jadeite," Tuxedo Kamen's tone brooked no nonsense and had the blond general at his side in a heartbeat.

"Milord?"

"Might we know your opinion of the situation?"

"What, the wen –" Jadeite caught the reproachful stare Kamen shot at him and backtracked hastily, "the girl?"

"Iie, _not _the lady!" Kamen sighed. '_Goodness, he really _is _harmless,_' the young man thought, a little ashamed at his uncharitable thoughts. '_The man acts as if he were quite touched in the head…_'

But Jadeite's sunny demeanour was shed abruptly as the blond shut his eyes. A moment later, he reopened them. "Zoicite is draining a grove of trees in a place near a small, enclosed body of water – an artificial one, dug by man."

Tuxedo Kamen reviewed his options, but sighed in frustration. There were many such places in this city where such a surrounding might be described. "Is it possible to specify a possible location say… a quarter-league in diameter that we might search?"

"Certainly, Milord." the Sun lord closed his eyes again, and Kamen could feel Jadeite's aura flaring subtly, sending out searching tendrils across a thin thread – one of the three bonds that linked him to the other Shitennou. Biting back questions, he waited passively for his new general to finish. '_Perhaps not so touched in the head after all,_' the dark-haired man thought, and rolled his eyes again, this time at Endymion's triumphant crow. '_Quiet, you._'

"Milord?" Tuxedo Kamen, startled a little from his thoughts, nodded in acknowledgement. "There are no youma and Zoicite is going for subtlety. I would say he is perhaps half a league away in a north-westerly direction. None of the nymphs or spirits will be harmed by his harvesting – he is being very careful about it."

Kamen felt a sudden, unexpected rush of sorrow from Endymion, and, not knowing what else to do, sent a tentative wave of comfort to the unhappy prince. '_They were all close to you, were they not?_'

_Very much so,_ was the quiet answer, and Jadeite, sensing his Prince's sorrow, sent a shy tendril of thought down so that Kamen felt a long-dormant bond flare into existence, if weakly. _Thank you, Jade._

"Think nothing of it, Endy," Jadeite smiled sadly at Tuxedo Kamen. "We'll get them back – all of them."

_Yes. Yes, we will._

Suddenly, there came an outpour of confusion, hastily dimmed, and Tuxedo Kamen felt a heady rush as Sailormoon's presence blinked into existence. He looked, and yes, there she was, slipping out of bed. He was a little ashamed – he'd forgotten her completely!

_No, it's impossible to forget her in any way, Tuxedo Kamen. Just as Serenity's and my souls were joined, so are yours and this formidable lady's._

Jadeite had turned a rather fetching shade of crimson – he was obviously remembering the 'wench' comments and was quite ashamed of himself. "Serenity-chan?" he choked.

Sailormoon's smile was gentle. "Iie, I don't think so," she said quietly. Tuxedo Kamen, remembering his manners, bowed deeply, saluting her as he straightened, and Jadeite made an elegant leg. The moon senshi smiled warmly, and her curtsey was graceful. "I understand there must be a battle to get to, if I am summoned," she said, and it was more of a question than a statement.

"I am unsure," Tuxedo Kamen admitted. "Zoicite is draining energy, but I understand he is doing it carefully – much as I asked assistance from the oak not long ago, if you would remember, my lady?"

Sailormoon winked, and she stretched lightly before padding to the door and nudging it open. "Then it is an investigative foray, without hostile intentions."

"It takes a vast amount of wild _ki_ to waken a single youma," Jadeite said grimly, "_if _that is his intention. He may be harvesting for a secret advantage in our next fight – ever the Strategist, our Zoi."

Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen hummed absently as they absorbed this information; the former strode to draw the balcony doors open. "We should make haste, then, lest our quarry escapes, and with him his intentions."

Tuxedo Kamen watched carefully until the woman on the next balcony went back indoors before nodding at Sailormoon. The golden-haired senshi took two running steps and bounded off the balcony railings and onto the next building.

Tuxedo Kamen followed shortly after another searching look at his surroundings, and Jadeite took a lovely swan dive off the side of the building, straightened in mid-air and used his telepathy and momentum to soar upwards, prompting screams and shouts from below. Now running and leaping side-by-side, Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen exchanged wry glances as Endymion muttered something depreciatory about show-offs.

They were there within two minutes, sometimes leaping several buildings at a time – though they were all three of them warriors, the power of near-flight and flight had them laughing in exhilaration. Their mirth ceased abruptly, however, when they landed lightly a few paces from some startled civilians and the drowsiness of the nymphs was whispered with every breeze that sighed through the boughs and reeds.

The pond was a large affair, more of a small manmade lake than anything, and was perhaps a up five hundred metres in length, little islands dotting its surface. The drain could easily be felt across the water, Zoicite's subtle scent of icy heat flaring every so often as the trees' energy sank lower.

Sailormoon turned to the picnicking family and quietly advised them to leave the area as they scouted out whatever might have caused the disturbance here. Meanwhile, Endymion was clamouring loudly in Tuxedo Kamen's head – the proverbial 'warning bells' going off in the masked young man's mind.

"I thought you said that Zoicite would not harm them!" Sailormoon whispered harshly as she removed a glove, pressing slender fingers to rough bark as if she could comfort the drained, frightened spirit within.

"They are not – not really," Tuxedo Kamen reassured her after doing the same himself. "Not permanently, at least – they will recover fully within a couple of months, but will let down their foliage a little early."

Nodding curtly, Sailormoon began to scan the are for the telltale scent of ice and heat; her concentration was almost immediately was broken by an almost dreamy sigh. Jadeite spoke, and his companions turned to him questioningly.

"He knows I am here," the Sun Brother said.

* * *

"Can't _believe_ I left my keys at Mamoru-kun's," Motoki muttered to himself. "Kami, Furuhata, you'd lose your _head_ if it wasn't attached…" This was not, in all fairness, true. Furuhata Motoki was generally considered (with some justification) to be a responsible person — if he hadn't been, he would never have made manager at age seventeen, only son of the owner or no. Furuhata Shikkari was not given to nepotism; himself a self-made man, he regarded it with as much suspicion as Motoki would Mamoru teasing Usagi to tears. 

Motoki snorted at the thought. '_Mamoru-kun make Usagi-chan cry? Keep going, Furuhata; he'll be calling her _baka Odango Atama_ next and mocking her bad grades, and _she'll_ be calling him every bad name she can think of and foul up tests just to spite him_…' "Right," he said aloud. "And pigs are flying in tight formation over Narita International." As well accuse Mamoru-kun of putting Usagi-chan in danger…

..Though, come to that, hadn't Saori done that very thing, half an hour ago?

'_Oh, not out of deliberate_ malice_,' she'd said stoutly, weathering the hail of protest from the cluster just outside the door. "He'd throw himself in front of a car before_ knowingly _putting Usagi-chan in harm's way — but just at the moment, I doubt his rationality." _

"_On what grounds, Saori-san?" Ami had asked._

"_On the grounds of simple observation," Saori said sharply. "Usagi-chan was clearly very ill — we could _all _see it — and _he_ didn't look all that better than she was. His colour was bad, his reflexes were off — he came to the door half-naked, with bags under his eyes! I doubt he's gotten more than four hours of sleep in the last twenty-four. Surely some of _you_ have noticed the same thing?"_

"…_He said he hadn't eaten yet," Asanuma said reluctantly. "That Usagi-chan had, several times, and that he was getting so much food because it was his turn." He squared his shoulders. "Demo — demo, I'd trust Usagi-chan with a Mamoru-senpai at the peak of exhaustion _days_ before I trusted a stranger at the peak of health, and if he wants me out of the apartment so he can look after her, then I'm going."_

_The truth of this, Motoki felt, was undeniable; in the face of it, Saori tightened her lips and looked away. Aino-san looked as if she dearly wished to say something, but held her tongue, perhaps feeling that she was still a guest with no place in 'in-group' arguments._

_Ami, however, seemed to hold no such compunctions; the normally quiet genius was spurred by her concern to a ferocity Motoki hadn't thought her capable of. "I have no argument with you on the subject of trust, Ittou-senpai; Mer — _Kami_ knows I agree with you on that score — but trust is not the issue here! Usagi-chan's _health_ is at stake, and her only caretaker is bidding fair to drive his own constitution into similar straits — trust is a very admirable thing, but Mamoru-san is only a _student_. '_Trust'_ is not enough!"_

"_It's _plenty_," Asanuma averred. "Anyway, it doesn't matter —" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. "This is _Mamoru-senpai's_ place, not ours. We can't just go back in there — he's well within his rights to kick us out whenever he pleases, and _—_" here the junior's natural cheer came back to the fore — "There are a lot of sharp, pointy objects on his desk!"_

"_Your point being?" Ami's eyes should have frozen Asanuma's blood in his veins. _

"_Mamoru-kun won twenty thousand yen playing darts in a tournament last year," Motoki interrupted hastily. "…Look. Mamoru-kun is a little the worse for wear right now, but I don't think he's so badly off as Saori-kun made it sound — at least not yet. He _does_ have more medical training than any of us —" he held up a hand to stall the protests of two-thirds of the Gorgeous Genius-gumi—"And _I_ have a key to his flat."_

"_Then it's settled," Naru said with surprising finality. "Either Motoki-kun or I will call the flat once every… three hours? To check in. If Mamoru-san sounds too bad, or hasn't told one or the other of us that he's getting some sleep and doesn't answer, then Motoki-kun will check up on them in person."_

_Motoki suddenly realised that everyone was now looking at him. "Ah — hai," he said belatedly. "That sounds like an excellent idea." He'd have to remember to compare notes with Naru, later; first a disappearance from the arcade, next the word of an enormous monster battle over at the harbour, and then Usagi turning up at Mamoru's apartment, terribly sick and Mamoru not looking much better? The timing beggared coincidence. "Any objections?"_

"_Only a request of Naru-san that she make sure you don't let this make you late for our date," Reika said with forced lightness._

"_Hai, hai, Reika-san!" Naru made an effort to smile back. "Usagi would hate it if she knew something like that happened because we were all worried about her."_

_Ami and Aino-san gave each other a considering look. Aino raised an eyebrow; Ami nodded, and both turned to the rest of the group. "Would it be all right to call you later, Naru-san?"_

"_Of course, Ami-san," Naru said with a bit more genuine cheer. "I quite expect to be playing switchboard all night."_

"…_Very well," Saori said after a moment. "Since we are all agreed. Kobayashi-kun, I noticed that you were having a little trouble in this afternoon's Law class…" _

They'd all gone their separate ways after that, splitting into twos and threes; he'd had a very odd time walking Reika home, going arm-in-arm as they hardly ever did in public, but trying very hard not to _look_ at each other, all the same — as if by looking at each other they might have to acknowledge something, the very thing that had had them crowd about the door, arguing so passionately and yet never making a move to knock — the same thing that had driven them out so precipitously in the first place.

_Mamoru, curled protectively around a shivering Usagi, clutching at her as if he thought they might try to take her away from him and _snarling_ in a voice like thunder, a voice that had commanded armies: _"**Unless you want a place on my hit-list, get _out!_"**

Motoki hunched his shoulders at the memory. "Do I _have_ to go fetch my keys back?" he asked plaintively of the empty air. "Couldn't I just wait out in front of the house until Unazuki comes home and laughs at me for losing them and never lets me forget it forever and ever amen…?"

_Aho_, the air didn't say. _Of course you can't_.

If it were just a matter of getting into his own house, it might have been one thing; a little humiliation and family teasing for a lack of inconvenience and more brotherly teasing the next day at school — the sort of thing that, if Mamoru had needed cheering up, Motoki might even have done on purpose.

But _this_…

Usagi was sick, Mamoru was…_off_… and, damn it, he'd made a promise; a promise that he couldn't very well keep if he didn't have those keys.

He'd have to knock on the door to ask for them; Mamoru'd have to talk to him, even if for only a second — maybe without Usagi right there in the room looking so _awful_, he'd be a little less worried, a little saner…

Mamoru'd _never_ snapped at someone like that before — not in Motoki's hearing, anyway — and since when did he have a _hit-list_? Motoki rubbed a hand over his eyes in order to think properly.

Then again, there _was_ that time in the park… and that littering guy. No one could ever understand why he was so hostile to polluters…

"Forgot something, Furuhata-san?" the concierge teased gently as he signed in.

"Hai, hai, Monei-san," Motoki said with a long-suffering smile, and turned to the elevators. "Keep an eye out for any random blond heads you might happen to come across, will you?"

The elevator ride didn't take _nearly_ so long as he would have liked, pretty promises or no. Really, it was ten floors up…! But all things must end, and so did this one, leaving Motoki standing alone before a door he'd left not half an hour before.

"'Once more unto the breach, dear friends', for Japan, Usa, and Mamoru-kun," he misquoted merrily, and knocked.

And knocked.

And then, just for a bit of variety, he knocked some more.

"…They can't _both_ be asleep yet… Maybe he's got her in the tub and can't hear me?" he wondered, and tried the knob, not really expecting it to work —

— which went rather a long way in explaining why he was so very surprised when it actually _did_.

"_Nan_ da — well! That's no good…" he mused, regaining his footing and shutting the door behind him. "I'd better remember to lock it on my way out…" He slipped off his shoes and padded around in his stocking feet. '_Let's see… keys, keys… if I were my keys, where would I be?_'

The key question was answered readily by a simple trip into the kitchen — and a foray into the pockets of the powder-blue apron, of all things. '_Now how in the world did they get there?_' Motoki wondered, bewildered. 'I_ certainly wasn't wearing it — searching the pockets was supposed to be a _joke!' He shrugged, pocketing the wandering collection of plastic and metal bits, and turned to regard the living room. '_Mamoru-kun probably picked them up automatically but forgot about them when Usagi-chan relapsed... Might as well see how she is, and if he's calmed down yet.'_

He tiptoed over to the bedroom, and opened the door as softly as he knew how. "Mamoru-kun?" he whispered. "Did I disturb Usagi-chan knocking? Nobody remembered to lock the… door," he finished lamely. '_Takku… _look_ before you start talking to an empty room, Furuhata… Now where could they be? Bathroom perhaps? Oi…"_ It really would have been faster to simply close the door behind him and take a shortcut through the bedroom to get to the necessary, but Motoki was already setting himself up for enough hot water just by proposing to be in the same _apartment_ as Usagi when she was in the bathtub; he didn't need to borrow trouble by invading Mamoru's personal space.

.He put his ear to the door and listened intently. No running water, no splashing… no murmur of voices… He knocked gently, just to be sure. "Mamoru-kun? Oi, Mamoru-kun?" Still nothing.

Motoki was beginning to get a little worried now; he'd already been all over the apartment with no sign of them, and it wasn't as if there were many places in a one-bedroom flat to hide a sick girl. "Mamoru-kun? Usagi-chan? Where _are_ you?"

Complete silence.

Motoki gritted his teeth, put a hand over his eyes, and opened the door. _Let_ Usagi-chan squeal and Mamoru pummel him; anything was better than the silence of an empty flat and his own head, of worrying that Mamoru and Usagi were _gone_, that Mamoru or worse yet _Usagi_ had had a blackout or that Mamoru had rushed out without a care for the door standing unlocked because the Bunny of Moto Azabu had taken a turn for the worse…

He stood there, hand over his eyes, and waited for the squeal, the shout of rage — hell, even the dry order to 'make himself useful and, while he was at it, shut the damn door'.

And waited.

He let his fingers crack open a bit, scanned the room.

No one.

He took the hand down entirely, and looked again, with a sort of weary determination.

Still no one.

"Shimatta."

Motoki staggered over to the love seat and collapsed — there was no feeling in his legs.

Gone. Both of them, gone, and where they might be or if they might come back nobody knew…

"…hospital… maybe," he muttered aloud, and reached for his mobile. Reika — she was smart, she knew things; he should tell Reika — and Naru, he'd better call Naru —

There was a rustle out on the balcony.

Motoki dropped his phone and scrambled to his feet. The _balcony!_ He'd forgotten the balcony! Usagi-chan loved that balcony, wide and breezy, its railings gaily draped with roses — Mamoru might have taken her out there —

He leapt for the glass doors, almost ripping off the drapes in his haste. They'd be out there and Mamoru-kun would growl and Usagi-chan would giggle and they'd be _fine_ and —

— And someone else was opening the door before he could; someone tall with broad shoulders but not quite as tall as Mamoru, with _silver_ hair and features so familiar he couldn't place them, and bright green eyes that looked through the glass at him and _knew_ him and were filled with first surprised pleasure, then realisation and dismay, and the door was flung open and the slightly younger boy was raising a hand —

**_Wham_.**

God the boy could hit hard….

* * *

Briar, Frostpetal and Shybloom listened with thinly-veiled amusement, peeking shyly from their respective vines so that they might hear the furious conversation in their Prince's apartment all the better. 

"I cannot _believe_ you did that!" A girl's voice shrilled.

A light tenor answered, sounding defensive. "If I had not, he would likely have made a great big ruckus that would be more trouble than it was worth. He wasn't even supposed to be here, anyway!"

"Neither are you! Rummaging through his drawers like you had the right —"

"I just wanted to see…"

There was a pathetic-sounding groan as the girl ignored her companion. "Oooh, he's going to be so _mad_…" There was a short silence punctuated by a noncommittal grunt and some rustling before she spoke again. "_What_ is _that_?"

If possible, the voice was even more embarrassed and guilty than before. "Nothing."

Accusingly, "You just put that in your pocket!"

"It's _nothing!_"

"You liar — what would Mama say if she knew she raised a thief?"

"I'm not stealing, really, just _borrowing — _I'll put it back later."

"You'll put it back _now!_" the girl ordered. "That's his _journal_, aniki! You can't just go taking things like that!"

A reluctant sigh. "Hai, hai… but can't I keep this clicky thingy?"

"No, of course you can't," the girl said reflexively. "…Wait, what is it?"

"I think it's called a pen. See? You can write with it!"

"Wow…"

"And he has so many, aneki! Can't I keep just _one?_" There was pause, followed by a disbelieving laugh. "Look who's the thief _now_?"

"They _are_ interesting artefacts…" the girl said reluctantly, and sighed in exasperation at her brother's expression. "And they say _you're_ the older one."

The roses held back their giggles and waited until two slender forms had vaulted back over the iron balcony rail and were several buildings away before they burst out laughing.

"Pity they didn't read his journal aloud in the end," Briar sighed, twirling a dark red lock of hair idly around a finger.

"_Pens_, though?" Frostpetal giggled, and the more matronly Shybloom clucked a few more times before she too lost her composure and collapsed with helpless mirth.

"Oh, that poor boy," she gasped. "Wondering where his friends were, and _bam!_ Down like a sack of topsoil!"

A hiss from Briar had the other two looking questioningly at the red rose sprite. "Something wrong, m'dear?" Shybloom questioned.

Briar sighed, and her dark leaves rustled agitatedly. "The aphids are at it again, thrice-damned pests," she lamented, "and I _still have not gotten my pruning!_"

* * *

Zoicite held the globe of honey-tinted energy to his mouth and drank, feeling his senses heighten dramatically as an almost euphoric sensation swept through him. He licked at his fingers when the amber globule had all but vanished, trying to get the last vestiges of vitality. 

He halted when the tangy taste in his mouth soured, and something that was a combination of horror, disbelief and longing filled him so completely that he could hardly breathe. The Lord of Comets whirled around, attracting a few strange looks from passers-by as he lifted his face to the sky and inhaled deeply. It came to him then, a whirl of flame and heat and light –

"Jadeite," he breathed, and broke into a half-stumbling run, not trusting his concentration to hold through teleportation. He would retrieve his brother – no doubt they were holding his soulstone as a trophy… but was Jadeite truly dead? Perhaps the Mother had interceded for him… but just in case, Zoicite spat out a glob of his own energy signature and sent it whizzing to the left of where he had sensed the three.

Jadeite would know which one the real signature was, and the other senshi would be fooled by his guise – if not, he would return to the Dark Kingdom for Kunzite and Nephrite. It was only Sailormoon and that Kamen bastard right now – Kunzite and Zoicite might be a match for them by themselves, and there was always Nephrite for backup, provided he was not too drained by his summons.

Zoicite sent a telepathic nudge to Kunzite, who was meditating quietly in his chambers in the Dark Kingdom. With something akin to shock, the Eldest acknowledged the situation and teleported. The reddish-blond general felt only satisfaction as he sensed the golden and silver presences speed off in pursuit of the decoy

_Fools_.

The Strategist smiled.

* * *

"He's coming!" Jadeite's dreamy demeanour cracked as he hissed at his companions. "What do I do?" his movements were frantic and as he made as if to run towards where his brother was, Tuxedo Kamen grabbed Jadeite by the back of his tunic, lifting the panicking general slightly into the air so that his legs continued to motor and thrash. It took Jadeite a few moments to realise he wasn't moving forward and he sent his amused liege a withering look. "Release me, I demand it!" he squirmed, attempting to kick Kamen in the shin, and was shaken roughly in return. "Begging your highness's pardon, but you are a bastard!" 

"_Quiet_!" His amusement withering, Tuxedo Kamen looked about sharply, _certain _that something had whispered just over his head. Before either Tuxedo Kamen or Jadeite could stop her, Sailormoon had broken into a swift sprint, no doubt following whatever Kamen had sensed.

"_Milady!_" unable bring himself to do otherwise, Kamen began to run after her, but was halted by a warning hand on his shoulder. Frustrated and desperate, Tuxedo Kamen resisted the urge to punch his general and instead shrugged off the blond's grip.

"It's a trap, Your Highness," Jadeite warned, face pale. "You and I – we _know_ Zoicite could not possibly have moved so quickly without teleportation, let alone so that we could not have seen him. It is very likely he has sent out illusions to fool us. Don't walk into disaster like this –"

"I can hardly do otherwise when it is _she_ I am bonded to," Kamen called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the trees.

_Follow Zoicite yourself, Jade,_ Endymion said; the distance and the link, weakened by a thousand years of misuse, made his voice sound faint and weak. _He – I – _we _cannot let Serenity walk into danger like this – her death is our death._

Jadeite flinched. '_Yes, Your Highness.' _With a little of his old humour, he added, '_I hear and obey.'_

_Thank you, _the prince said gravely, and Jadeite was alone again.

'_Kuso,_' Tuxedo Kamen thought grimly, '_she is swift._'

_So are you! Quickly! _Endymion urged, and Kamen obeyed upon seeing two elusive golden ponytails fluttering behind a seerafuku-clad figure.

Sailormoon almost stumbled in her surprise to see him. "Milord Kamen?"

"Your vassal, my lady," he murmured, not turning to look at her. "And it was foolish to rush off like that; you compromised your safety without my protection."

"Protection can be a hindrance," she said stiffly, but her eyes were soft as she spoke. She blanched as she realised that her words might be viewed as insulting. "Gomen nasai, I did not mean to offend –"

"Iie, you are correct in many ways, and incorrect in _one_: I do not plan to be a 'hindrance'."

"You have never been," the moon senshi acknowledged, and sped up, he matching her every leaping stride with one of his.

"Milady, this might very well be a trap – Jadeite and I both possess links to Zoicite, and he is nowhere in this direction –"

They rounded a turn in the path, and Sailormoon stumbled again, blinked, and spat an unladylike curse before doing an abrupt spin on a booted heel. Tuxedo Kamen felt it too – the tiniest expansion of energies indicating that –

'_I should have caught up to her and taken her back instead of trying to reason,' _Kamen thought grimly. He turned to look over his shoulder: it was an abomination, because it was beyond unnatural—as if some madman had reached out and torn a rift in the canvas of Earth and Sky.

'_And here is the vandal himself.'_

Kunzite hovered over it, a strange, black aura dancing about his form; he made a jerking motion, and there was a sudden pulling force on the two warriors' bodies, forcing them backwards.

_Run! Gods, _run Endymion shouted, half-hysterical with fear for both Kamen and Moon. _It's a warp – and if you go through it, it'll kill you!_

'_Nani! How?' _Kamen asked wildly – he could feel himself being dragged towards the portal, or the warp by a mercilessly strong force. He threw off his cape and tuxedo jacket; sensing that even the smallest extra weight was hazard to survival.

_Idiot – he's the King of _Space_! He can create pocket dimensions, and holds the key to each one he makes. If you destroy the key, the dimension – and everything in it – will be crushed, suffocated… dead…_

With a hissed oath, Kamen leapt forward, scooping Sailormoon up in the same fluid motion, and fled for the trees in the hope of some respite. He was, amazingly, faster than before, Sailormoon determinedly feeding him her nervous energy. In spite of everything, he was still unable to break free, and eventually lost his footing.

The two slid backwards, Kamen controlling their fall so that when they landed in darkness, his embrace cradled her protectively even as his head impacted against an unforgiving surface and he knew no more.

* * *

Kunzite drew the warp closed, his eyes expressionless. He seldom ever used his powers over Space – they were frighteningly destructive and a peril to their own user – but he had swallowed armies with them, though it had cost him dear. 

His lips thinned momentarily before a lighter, more joyful thought occurred to him.

Jadeite was alive.

The white-haired general smiled, tossing the fist-sized globe of negative matter from palm to palm. Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen were out of the way, and at his mercy. There was Mercury and Venus yet to contend with, but had he not rid himself of two birds with one stone?

_Two enemies with one kunzite._

He laughed, and, catching the dark orb firmly in his right hand, began to squeeze.

* * *

Two dark figures watched the flow of the Timestream as the pocket dimension Kunzite had created began to collapse in on his hapless victims. The shorter one sighed, leaning heavily on a staff that was, strangely, shaped almost like a key. "You'd best go rescue them, then," Pluto remarked to her taller friend. "It'd be a shame if they died _now_." 

"Wouldn't it ever?" her companion retorted, rolling her eyes. "I still have to catch those two scamp sibs of mine…"

"They're safe, so don't you worry about anything but pulling the King and Queen out of that warp," Pluto sighed in exasperation as she watched the two in question begin to suffocate.

"Right," responded the other. "Gaia's tits, but I _hate _being the responsible one." Her tone was sulky, but she took only a moment to brace herself before stepping into the Timestream and being swept away, leaving an amused Sailorpluto behind.

The green-haired senshi of Time chuckled as she watched the younger woman fall squarely onto the Empty Heaven King's upper back, sending both crashing to the ground. Slender fingers snatched at the warp key and brushed dark hair out of dark eyes while long legs began their flight. Booted feet pounded the ground as Kunzite got shakily to his feet, cursing fluently, and gave chase.

A lash of darkness sent the would-be rescuer sprawling, and Pluto chuckled when she saw her friend mouth several unladylike suggestions as to where her pursuer could put his sword before firing a burst of green-blue energy at Kunzite, who was caught off guard.

Pluto turned away from the scene as the two sprang into conflict, satisfied that her friend would do her job. She had too much of her parents in her to fail.

* * *

She watched him warily, dark eyes hard and short-cropped blue-black hair rustling quietly in the breeze. 

The challenge was wordless – they had no need to speak. The conditions were simple, the prize obvious. Though Kunzite did not know that, for all her honour, his opponent was quite unwilling to surrender her future, her very existence to him. The Crystal Millennium relied on this battle, one among many.

Combat style?

_Energy manipulation._

The trophy?

_A vital future and existence._

He lashed out, a tendril of dark power wrapping itself around her throat, and a quick snap of her fingers dissipated it as a flash of iridescent blue-green solidified into an enormous winged cat. Its sandy-grey coat was streaked and splotched with darkest black, and though the ears and cheeks were tufted, it could only be an ocelot. The huge cat, easily six feet at the shoulder, padded lazily to seat itself before its mistress, yawning deliberately at Kunzite to show off abnormally long fangs.

Kunzite responded readily to the challenge; his silvery eyes lit in anticipation as blackness streamed from his fingertips to coalesce into a serpentine-bodied dragon of cloud and smoke, its lithe form undulating and swaying, taloned feet clawing at the air as it settled onto the ground. Black sparks dribbled from its mouth, and it shook its entire front section so that the black mane fluttered, smoke and sparks twining insidiously.

She arched a brow. "Impressive," she said. "Very fearsome; fire and brimstone and all that."

He did not answer, but instead signalled his avatar as she did hers. Cat and dragon surged forwards, huge claws and talons tearing up clods of dirt and grass as thunder rent the air and Kunzite's dragon opened its mouth to disgorge a torrent of blackest lightning.

The ocelot was blasted backwards; its tawny eyes flashed gold and with a snarl it pounced onto the dragon, churning up a cloud before long fangs gleamed white and orange as the sky began to darken slowly, red and orange and purple splayed artistically across the horizon.

The dragon roared in pain as the ocelot's claws tore through its shadowy scales and the enormous feline severed a leg with a gnawing bite, the limb evaporating into cold smoke as Kunzite grabbed his at his arm.

"And so the lion battles the serpent between the thresholds of light and night," the young woman's husky contralto had Kunzite's head jerking up and his silver-blue eyes turned to ice as he glared at her.

Her grin twisted into a grimace as she felt claws sear her back, the dragon wrapping its long body around her winged ocelot and gouging its spine with lethally keen talons—

—when a great bird with a swanlike neck, its feathers alight with a thousand sunsets and a crest of flame on its brow, swept down on the dragon, breathing white-gold fire at the black avatar.

Kunzite's eyes widened in disbelief; only _one _person he knew had a Chinese phoenix as an avatar, and yes – he caught sight of a regretful-looking Jadeite, Zoicite following close behind.

When the Eldest found his voice and composure, he dissipated the dragon, seeing that the brat who had stolen the warp key had disappeared. He felt cold. He had never so much as entertained the thought that perhaps Jadeite had been spared by the enemy because he had joined them.

"_Traitor,_" he hissed, and felt as if an icy hand was squeezing and searing his heart. Jadeite was his youngest brother, and that he could stray from the Shitennou's path was…

Jadeite didn't flinch at the accusation, but merely saluted his brother, his form evaporating into the air as he teleported.

Less than a heartbeat later, the condemning bolt of black lightning struck the ground where he had stood. Kunzite's hands were clenched into fists, his eyes closed with forced calm.

Zoicite was just as shocked, but he plucked at the Space King's uniform sleeve. "Kunz," he whispered. "We should tell Neph…"

"We will tell him nothing!" Kunzite snapped. "He will go out with his little flute and try to _whistle _our Jade back, and our Jade is _dead_!"

There was a short pause, and some of the tension left the white-haired general's shoulders in a sigh; with a flash of darkness, he was gone.

Zoicite looked about him at their surroundings, which were almost completely decimated. Sighing, he disappeared in a flurry of ice and light.

* * *

Sailormoon powered up her tiara just enough so that she might see, the _chi_-charged jewellery throwing a pitifully small circle of golden light on the two figures sprawled on the ground. She had the impression that something had been pressing in on her, and then a heartbeat later, she hadn't even been able to _breathe_… 

Cradling Tuxedo Kamen's head in her lap and using a little energy to sooth away the large bump, the moon senshi examined him carefully and sighed in relief when she realised that, save the nasty bruise she had just healed, he was relatively unharmed.

Sailormoon had no idea just how long she held Tuxedo Kamen's still form, biting her lip hard when she believed she might just cry with the hopelessness of it all. This darkness was her sentence, payment for her failure. She was foolish, chasing an unknown force and enemy without stopping to evaluate it…

And she had dragged her poor Tuxedo Kamen down with her – he who admitted himself that he had no other existence than to guard her well-being. How well she had repaid him, with an eternity in darkness, or a death of starvation and thirst! She dared not leave the circle of light – or his side – to explore her surroundings, and cursed her cowardice and the weakness it brought with it.

Sailormoon slipped into a trance that was full of nightmares and demons, self-hatred and a soul-deep fear for he who slept the sleep of darkness as she ran ungloved fingers through his soft hair, having loosened his shirt clumsily in the hopes of easing any further discomfort.

As the energy drain began to take its toll on her, the light flickered and dimmed; the golden-haired senshi felt uncomfortably hot, and there was a haze in her eyes.

Just as her fortitude began to waver and her vision misted at the edges, after what seemed to be several long eternities, her heart leapt as she felt her companion stir painfully, issuing a soft groan. Sailormoon took one of his gloved hands in both of her smaller ones, pressing it desperately to her lips again and again as she cajoled him into consciousness.

* * *

_Awake at last,_ Endymion observed acidly. Tuxedo Kamen ignored him, instead bringing his other hand up to run them blindly through Sailormoon's golden hair. A faint nudge from his mind dissipated the gloves completely, and for a moment Kamen contented himself with the whisper of silk across his fingertips. 

Feeling Sailormoon's misery course down the length of their bond, Kamen took her into a comforting embrace, heedless of propriety, even as the guilt from what he believed to be his failure suffocated him.

"My lady," he whispered hoarsely, and felt her slender form shake as the light from the tiara winked out completely. "Lady Moon!"

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama," came the soft reply, and he could hear the tears in her voice.

'_What happened to Jadeite? What happened to _us_? What is this place?' _Kamen wondered, and held Sailormoon just a little bit tighter before realising that her brow was feverish and her skin heated. "Kuso," he cursed, and conjured a tiny flame in the palm of his hand so that he might see. "Sailormoon?"

"Tuxedo Kamen-sama," she acknowledged, her voice languid. "I'm very tired…"

'_The silly chit kept the light lit for over three hours! _Endymion snapped. _We're in a small pocket dimension that Kunzite created. He tuned the warp specifically to Sailormoon's and your energy signatures, meaning you two were the only ones absorbed; he was about to destroy the key when someone interfered._

'_Is there a way we might escape this … pocket dimension? You speak of it as if you have seen it work – surely you comprehend this affair?'_

_There is _no _way out,_ Endymion sighed. _Only the person who holds the key may free us, and we do not know if he – she, according to Jade – is an ally._

Tuxedo Kamen barely heard the prince – he was busy tending to his companion as best as he could and trying desperately to figure out the source of her ailment. '_Then what is the cause of her sudden illness?_' he asked worriedly, taking her pulse. '_Is it a response to these surroundings?' _He watched in horror as her body spasmed and she spat forth black phlegm.

_It's the response to her overusing her power! Without exposure to the moon, or even our _universe_, she has no way to renew her power. She must rejuvenate herself –_

'_That was not my meaning!_' Kamen snapped. '_Why is she coughing up blood? And _black _blood at that!_'

"Ah, my lady," he sighed, smoothing her bangs back from her face. His pulse quickened as despair and panic warred – despair demanded he weep for their inevitable deaths in an unknown setting; panic at the very possibility that she may not survive gave him strength to push back despair and to think with a clear head once he had calmed himself. '_Gods!_' he thought angrily, '_why spin her thread if it be so short-lived, to be cut out of the tapestry of destiny so soon?_'

Endymion's tone was unusually gentle towards his alter ego. _Her spirit is tainted by the poison the Dark Kingdom coats their blades with._ _The infection must be terrible, to show on the physical plane._

'_Can it be cleansed? She will not die?_'

_Idiot – do you honestly think I'd allow my Serenity to – no, don't answer. Yes, it can be cleansed – if only I can…_

'_Hai?_'

_I can establish a connection to a random, grunt-level youma in the Dark Kingdom, using Jadeite as a channel. _

'_Jadeite?'_

_He had never been truly… ah,_ dismissed_ from its service, which is why it is possible to use his soul as a medium. When I do so, you will hunt down _every speck of taint _in her body, mind and spirit, and direct it towards me. Provided we are discreet, we will siphon the taint back to its origin. _Endymion paused. _It is very dangerous._

'_Will it cure her?'_

_Of course._

'_Then I will do it.'_

Endymion's voice sounded grimly approving in Tuxedo Kamen's ears as he opened two connections; one to darkness, and the other to light. _Don't forget to shield._

Tuxedo Kamen obeyed the prompt wordlessly and plunged into a world that should have been shadowy, but was ablaze with silver and gold.

He sank past the library of memories and experiences, past the volumes of knowledge, past the model of her personality, all the while murmuring in wonderment.

'_So this is the soul of a seraphim,'_ he thought. '_All gold and silver and light and everything that is _them_…'_

When he approached her at a spiritual viewpoint, he blanched behind his mask, seeing terrible, writhing shadows, and red-black stains that looked eerily like dried blood. He picked his way amongst them, fishing out pieces the size of dinner plates, others smaller than marbles, and still others that writhed away as if alive when he reached for them. Revolted, tired but determined, Tuxedo Kamen continued to battle the infection.

Often, he had to resist the urge to simply turn his head and retch; he was ashamed, and unsure why he felt such nausea, but continued his task with grim single-mindedness. It was only after the very last hint of the taint – an oily cloud wafting insidiously just out of reach – was gone, did he collapse, exhausted and spent.

Drifting back to the surface, he knew the instant that Sailormoon's fever had broken, and sleep took both of them. Limbs intimately entwined, cheek to cheek, hand in hand, they drifted into slumber as their clothes rustled and melted back into sweats and sleepwear.

* * *

Dark blue eyes regarded the warp key speculatively before a wicked grin split her face and she began to twist it this way and that, listening carefully for the tell-tale… 

_Click._

"Next time," she in a conversational tone, grunting as she heaved the unconscious duo through the portal, "try not to get Kunzite-jisama so angry – he's almost as bad as _you _when you grow an ego," she addressed her last remark to the unconscious male.

She squinted at him in the light of the setting sun: the strong jaw line; the straight, almost aquiline nose and the high cheekbones. Grinning, she tugged at the strange clothes he wore – they were baggy and coarse to the touch. "And _you _have the nerve to scold _me _about _my _clothes," she sniffed. "_I _like that jacket, even if Hahaue doesn't. You're just whipped, that's what you are."

"If you said that to his face when he was awake, he would have you shipped off to some other galaxy _far, far away_, King's favourite or no King's favourite," a dry voice said from behind her.

The young woman whirled around to meet two amused red and green gazes. "You won't tell him, of course," she stated with conviction. "Because if you do, I can let slip those details about just who dyed his best tuxedo _lilac_… and put the same mixture in his _shampoo_. He was walking around with purple hair for nearly a week until Hahaue got annoyed with his complaining and shaved him nearly _bald_."

Green Eyes surveyed his older sister with disgust, but snorted at the remembrance. "Well, he should have remembered that the Kinzuishou could have changed them both back," he made excuse, and Red Eyes giggled. "You shut up – should we take them back to his flat?"

Red Eyes' hackles rose at that. "I don't see why not – except for the fact that _you _knocked out an innocent bystander who could very well be waking up and –"

"Then we'll knock him out again," Green Eyes said cheerfully.

Blue Eyes shrugged. "Why not?"

Red Eyes made a strangled noise. "You're supposed to be the _responsible one_!" she hissed.

"What? We can't just let them wake up here. Remember the stories –"

"Selene's Destiny, he's _heavy_… I'll take her," Red Eyes said, accepting the small female into her arms before leaping away into the night.

Green Eyes and Blue Eyes met each others' gazes and shrugged. Blue Eyes produced a gold piece.

"Heads or tails? Loser takes him."

* * *

**Since this is _VERY IMPORTANT_, I shall repeat it here, right before the glossary: JIKKAN-CHAN AND I HAVE STARTED A LIVEJOURNAL FOR THIS ACCOUNT! If you want sneak peeks/previews, spoilers, character profiles (particularly for the Shitennou) and chapter progress then _watch it for updates!_ It _will _be updated at _least _once every two days, but hopefully up to twice daily. The link if found on our profile under 'homepage'. If you want to add us, our username is a_rashinokakyoku._**

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Glossary

**_-ouji_—Prince. Probably not meant for a suffix, but it isn't as if Jikkan-chan hasn't already done such things.**

**_-hime_—A Princess or young lady of noble birth. '_Oujo_' might be better, but most anime-fic readers have already encountered –_hime_.**

**_-gumi_—Special Reference Definition! Yet another nod to Ruroni Kenshin—probably on the part of 'Numa or 'Yashi. Kenshin has a group of friends who tend to follow him into battle whether he likes it or not; at one point the youngest of this group refers to them all, collectively, as 'the Kenshin-_gumi_'. Deciding that the Beautiful and Intelligent Troika of Feminine Pulchritude that is Ami, Reika and Saori counts as a battle complement sounds _just_ like something 'Yashi would do—and Jikkan-chan just couldn't resist the alliteration of 'Gorgeous Genius-_gumi_'. :3**

**_aho_—fool; simpleton; idiot**

'**_Takku'_—something Jikkan-chan hears all the time in her _Meitantei Conan_ subtitled episodes; generally used by males about Motoki's age. An expression of annoyance on the order of 'Man…' or 'Sheesh!'.**

**_Aniki_—one's senior; elder brother. As they're twins, this is probably more of an affectionate dig at him than anything else, long since passed into habit.**

**_Aneki_—elder sister. Almost certainly meant as a matching retort.**

**_Domo_—the least formal thank-you Jikkan-chan knows. On the order of 'thanks' or 'Ta.'**

**_Do itamashite—_'You're welcome'. Probably closer to 'think nothing of it'.**

**_Domo arigatou_—semiformal thank-you; more polite than 'thanks' or 'ta muchly' but less stuffy or profoundly grateful than 'My humblest thanks.'**

**_Hahaue_—polite, archaic term for '(one's own) mother'. Jikkan-chan uses it on _her_ mother, and told her that it means 'honoured mother', which is as good a translation as any.**

**_Kinzuishou_—The Golden Crystal, Endymion-ouji's very own Deus Ex Machina—er, Pretty Magical Rock.**

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**A/N: WHERE BE REVIEWS! I (coughs) ERM, WE WANT REVIEWS! Onegai? We're trying to make it to at least two hundred and fifty – 250 – reviews. /begs you/.**


	10. Enrai no Sasayaki

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A/N: Ack! I'm _so _sorry that it took us so long to update this… how long has it been? Twenty days… /boggles/ My god that's the longest between Kakera updates evarr! Hope we make it up to you with… nothing, actually, or _something_… but we aren't allowed to tell. /winks/.**

**And now… we're hoping for a review count of two hundred and ninety, or even three hundred after this chapter, actually. A faint hope, but perhaps you might oblige? It took us a little while to get out of the writing rut, and it _was _quite difficult right up until last night or so.**

**290 reviews! Our aim, please help/begs/ Thankee… and end the babble, start the chapter.

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**Kakera ni Tsukiakari**

A Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon fanstory by Arashinobara Jikkankakyoku

**IX – Enrai no Sasayaki**

_**The Whisper of Thunder**_

* * *

'_Water reflects light, whether it be murky or clear, and in one's reflection one sees Truth – Truth, which is ugly and hateful; Truth, which is kind and nurturing; Truth, which is angry and twisted; Truth, which is loving and gentle. In Truth is Knowledge, and in Knowledge is Power, and in Power is Corruption – and in Corruption's demise is Truth. So spins the Wheel of Destiny, and so flows the River of Time. There are times of Truth and Enlightenment. There are times of Knowledge and Advancement. There are times of Power and Greatness… and there are times of Corruption and Darkness. So spins the wheel, so weaves the tapestry – none can see what the True Tapestry holds, save perhaps the Fates and the Father, and the Mother. But this I know: my Princess and her Prince lie at the heart of Darkness, and in the Soul of Light.'_

– Sailorneptune of the Outer Senshi

* * *

There was someone staring at him, Motoki was certain. 

There was also an orchestra playing the punk-rock cover of _Carol of the Bells_ in his head, with his brainpan the star instrument and his mind the captive audience, but Motoki preferred to disregard that, perhaps out of the hope that if he ignored it, _it_ would ignore _him_.

No, Motoki found it more productive to concentrate on the foreign gaze that was raising the hairs on the back of his neck, and the foreign surface underneath him.

It was a couch, he was pretty certain; maybe even one he knew.

Motoki inhaled deeply. A fresh breeze met his nose; rainfall, fresh topsoil, roses —

_Roses!_ He was still in Mamoru's flat!

But what on earth was he doing here? He was supposed to call Reika and Naru — Usagi might have been put in the hospital…

'_But wait, there was that guy —'_

— that _brat_ with the silver hair and green eyes who'd broken into Mamoru's flat by his balcony!

The bastard must've cold-cocked him! But why put him on the sofa and _stare_ at him as if waiting for him to develop pink and lavender spots…?

Motoki snarled and sat up. Just let him get his hands on that little bastard and – he'd promptly mewl weakly and tumble off the sofa, clutching at his head and begging Kami-sama to let him die, or at least have let him had any _alcohol_ before cursing him with the hangover.

Somewhere over his head, the stranger let loose a quiet chuckle.

He _chuckled._ He was _laughing at him,_ the bastard.

Motoki hauled himself upright by trying to climb up the coffee table and levered open his eyes. "_Yarou_," he began heatedly —

— only to be arrested by the sight of _Mamoru_, sprawled in his favourite easy chair and staring at him as if he were the next big thing in comedy, a sleeping Usagi (who looked _mile_s better than the last time he'd laid eyes on her) resting her head on his chest, her legs draped across his lap.

"Now, Motoki-kun, there's no call for such language," his best friend reprimanded cheerfully.

"Ma-Ma-Mamoru!" Motoki stuttered, and entirely failed to care; they were _here_, Usagi was _well_, Mamoru was _home…_ Words tumbled over themselves in their haste to get out of his mouth. "My keys! I forgot them — came back — empty! You were _gone _— and when I went to the balcony — green eyes —"

"Slow _down_, Motoki-kun," Mamoru coaxed, though his mouth twitched suspiciously at the stream of near-incomprehensible babble coming out of the older blond's mouth. "_Quietly_, though; you'll wake her up."

Motoki took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, seating himself on the couch more properly. "I forgot my keys at your house," he said carefully. "I came back, and found the front door unlocked. I came in, and the place was empty: you and Usagi were gone. I heard a noise on the balcony, and thought it might be you — and then there was this punk about your height with green eyes who thought he could break into your flat by your balcony. Little bastard laid me out before I could react," he admitted with ill grace.

Mamoru was frowning darkly, the blond saw — the dark-haired boy's fists were clenched; the veins on the back stood out stark from his skin.

Usagi whimpered in her sleep, and the tension fled from Mamoru's frame as he soothed her hair and rocked her gently, prompting a smile from the watching soda jerk. '_Like a mother and her child_,' he thought, before something occurred to him. '_No,'_ he decided, '_a man and his wife._'

When at last the sleeping girl was calmed, Mamoru began to speak, very softly. His voice faltered in places, but otherwise filled the room for the next several minutes as he unwillingly related to Motoki the occurrences of the last couple of weeks — the unexplained blackouts, Usagi and her injury, the strange healing powers, the black streaks which had so mysteriously vanished — and the youma. Motoki, sensing his friend's reluctance to speak at all, prompted him gently, and added to what Mamoru knew by relating his and Naru's hunches.

"Without Naru-chan, I wouldn't have noticed a lot, or else just thought that if you really needed something, you'd come to me to talk," Motoki admitted as Mamoru finally ran out of words. "But there she was, in the arcade, grabbing me and shoving me into a broom closet —" the blond laughed sheepishly. "I actually reminded her I had Reika already — thought she'd almost explode from the frustration.

"Demo … she said that Usagi-chan had blacked out, and that she couldn't remember how or what was going on — that there'd been a monster at her mother's store and that _Usagi-chan_ locked herself in _with the monster _— and she didn't seem to be harmed…. Yesterday, though, Naru noticed that Usagi-chan's eyes had turned dark, and then she was walking out, as if she were in a dream. Then _you_ followed her, and I started thinking about the time you didn't know what had happened…" Realising he was rambling again, Motoki took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. "Naru couldn't find Usagi-chan, but she saw you duck into an alley, and tried to follow you — but you were _gone_.

"And when it happened before at school…" Motoki continued, wary of Mamoru's silence, "Both of you turn up unconscious —"

"Naru-chan _knows_?" Mamoru interrupted. "Or she knows a little…"

Motoki leaned back into the couch cushions and contemplated the ceiling. "You _are_ going to tell her all this, aren't you?" he asked pointedly.

"_You _can tell her," Mamoru muttered. "I wish you hadn't gotten involved… Tenshiko and I are neck-deep, and that's bad enough. Besides, Tenshiko would have a _fit_ if one of you got hurt." Hastily, "so would I, for that matter."

Motoki looked up to see the expression on Mamoru's face and promptly hated it. "We'll be safe," he snapped uncharacteristically, seeing the dead expression melt into surprise, the dark-haired boy clutching even more tightly at the girl in his lap.

"_You can't be sure of that!_" came the expected response, and Motoki actually threw his hands upwards in a gesture of supplication.

"Kami-sama," the blond growled back, "You're so bloody _stubborn!_ There are _monsters _—"

"Youma," Mamoru corrected absently, his dark eyes drifting closed in weariness.

"Demo… _youma_, and you and Usagi-chan…"

Usagi was stirring; Mamoru shot Motoki a warning glance and the blond nodded wearily; he would talk to Naru himself, and it was time to take his leave. "What will you tell Ikuko-mama?" he wanted to know.

"She won't be home today; I'll bring Tenshiko home myself. Kenji-papa should still be awake."

Motoki glanced at the time on the cassette player; it read ten minutes to eight. He had returned to the appointment sometime after five.

As Motoki left the apartment complex, two things occurred to him — the first being that, if he didn't hurry, he was going to be very, _very_ late for his movie date with Reika, which was scheduled to begin at eight-thirty.

The second item came as he was sprinting down the sidewalk, almost knocking over a slender, white-haired girl rounding the corner.

'_How did that brat get up ten stories and onto Mamoru-kun's apartment balcony, anyway?_'

* * *

"See?" a boy popped up directly next to the albino girl, who was rubbing her arm where the manic blond had crashed into just heartbeats ago. "He is not all that harmed for the knock on his head. Ol' Toki-jisan always had a skull hard enough to split marble." 

Red Eyes spat a rude curse at her brother, to which he replied in kind; just as they were making as if to lunge at the other, a pair of strong hands grabbed them both by the collars of their shirts and shook them roughly. "Enough, you two!" Blue Eyes hissed, rolling her eyes. "_Why _did hahaue and chichiue not take up vows of celibacy right after I was conceived? Tenkaichi's Balls –"

"Hey!" yelped Green Eyes, and was shaken again. "Anyway, _I _should be the one complaining – _you _weren't the one who walked in on them –"

"Shut _up_," his older sister ordered, and turned to walk down the street, a sibling apiece still swinging from each hand. "Now, you were saying about that flat…?"

"Getting some kind of residence close to _either _would be good –" Red Eyes ventured seriously, ignoring the fact that her sandals were dangling a good half-foot off the ground.

"_Baka_s, remember how much you two look like _them_!" the boy hissed, and his elder sister gave him a threatening look. "…and me, too, but that's not the point! Just choose somewhere neutral… attend the schools…"

A sigh. "I was only supposed to come back, grab the two of you, and present your prostrate forms to the King. By his order, of course," Blue Eyes added the last comment wryly.

"We're already going to be fried for coming back; staying for a little while won't change the fact that we're all going to be dangling by our ankles from the ceiling of the throne room," the boy muttered.

Red Eyes spoke now, her tone timid. "How is she?" Her twin's cheerful disposition vanished as he too waited Blue Eyes' response.

The young woman was silent for several long moments before she spoke. "Not good," she said lowly. "I saw her just before I went to the Gates – she's getting worse. We might not even be in the right time…"

Immediately, there were protests from the twins. "Cronus promised us this!" Green Eyes whispered angrily. "And since she's cured now, she should be _fine_…"

"The illness was _supposed _to happen, and Tuxedo Kamen was _supposed _to gain knowledge of Sailormoon's soul – the Queen is ailing because there are circumstances unforeseen that have endangered her," the younger girl pointed out, tucking a curl of pink-streaked white hair behind an ear.

"She's right," Blue Eyes sighed. "And we still may be in the wrong time."

Green Eyes began to bristle before he too exhaled in resignation. "Let us stay for a few days," he begged, "so that we may be sure…"

Blue Eyes hesitated and stopped walking to let them down, absently shaking the tension from her hands. "I don't see why not," she agreed, "considering if we stay here, we will eventually encounter the threat." A groan. "He's going to have my _head_…"

"Puu will put in a good word for us, you know she will," her younger sister pointed out, skipping a few times before falling into a sedate pace next to her brother. He slung an arm around her obligingly, though his face still held unease. "Don't you worry about her – she'll pull through."

_She has to_.

All three knew the unspoken thought, but they continued to smile and laugh at other things, knowing that if they spoke of it, the tentative shield of normalcy they had just woven would fall, and despair was hardly the best way to start a new life in the past.

* * *

Mamoru tried not to jar the sleeping Usagi awake as he unbuckled her safety belt, but knew he had failed when crystal-blue eyes blinked sleepily up at his midnight ones. "Mamo-chan?" she asked drowsily. 

"Gomen ne, Tenshiko," he apologised quietly, but as he made as if to lift her out of her seat, she drew back, her chin tilting up obstinately.

"I can walk myself," Usagi muttered, and at her friend's hesitation, she nudged him gently and he allowed her to step out, steadying her as she stumbled.

"Stubborn," he chided, and Usagi could hear the amusement and reproach in his voice.

"Maybe a _little_ help," she conceded, and accepted Mamoru's assistance. By the time they reached the front porch, however, her legs were trembling, and Usagi sighed in relief as Mamoru rang the doorbell. "I just need practicing again," she insisted. "If I can't walk, I can't dance, now, can I?"

"You're not still thinking about going to the _dance_, are you?" Mamoru exclaimed, aghast. "Your parents would never allow it, not after that fever… it's only a few days away –"

"Papa will let me," Usagi said, but didn't sound as convinced as she wanted to. "…If I ask nicely."

Her father answered the door, ushering them both in and pushing a bowl of lukewarm chicken broth into Usagi's hands as he bade them sit at the table. Mamoru offered to leave, but was begged to stay by both Kenji and Usagi, and nibbled at some of Ikuko's left-over cookies as he watched with some trepidation while Usagi – true to her word – brought up the subject of the dance.

"Absolutely _not_!" Tsukino Kenji exploded. "A dance? After that scare you gave us? Aijou, you were running a _one hundred and four point four _degree temperature! And then _you ask to go to a dance_! Your immune system will be tired from fighting the fever; you'll catch all sorts of bugs from other people!"

Usagi sighed, and resorted to her most pleading expression, something that had never failed her before. "Demo… Papa, we – Ami-chan and Mina-chan and I – we made plans to go together, and with Naru-chan and even _Saori _is going, and Mamo-chan will look after me, you know he will and I promise I won't dance with any strange boys!"

"Tenshiko, don't exert yourself," the upperclassman in question cautioned. "You were _very _sick –"

Usagi's shoulders slumped miserably. "Demo –" she tried, and her face fell as her father's expression firmed and the brunet shook his head firmly.

"Iie," he said softly, "I don't think so. Aijou-chan – Usagi, onegai –"

Usagi gave her father a wan smile and a hug. "Gomen for acting like a spoiled child," she apologised quietly. "It's just… I wanted to have some fun, you know?"

Kenji smiled fondly at his daughter. "Of course – no matter how long ago it was, I was once your age. Now, go to sleep – you're staying in bed tomorrow, too."

"Demo –"

"Iie. Sleep now and maybe we'll move you up from liquids to solids."

Usagi cast Mamoru a terrified expression. "My fever is broken! Ask Mamo-chan –"

Mamoru lifted Usagi easily, nudging the hallway door open as he made his way carefully up the stairs. Leaning in close so that Kenji would not hear, he whispered an assurance into her ear: "don't worry, Tenshiko – I'll smuggle in some of the leftover sushi when I stop by tomorrow during my double-hour study block."

She cheered up considerably at that. "What about some chocolate – you _know _that chocolate gives you the most energy –"

"We need to give you proper nutrition, Usa, not get you hyper so that you burn all your calories and waste away in bed…"

Usagi gave her best friend a confused look. "Nani? Mamo-chan, that made no sense…"

Mamoru merely chuckled softly and lowered her onto her bed, tucking the light blue comforter snugly about her slender form. "Dream sweet, Tenshiko," he bid her goodnight, and rose to leave; she clutched desperately at his sleeve. "Hmmm?"

"Stay with me, onegai?" she pleaded. "I don't want to… not on my own –"

He understood – even before the blackouts and youma, she had never liked sleeping alone, which would explain the large collection of plushies and soft toys arranged haphazardly about her pillows. Glancing at his watch, which read quarter to nine, Mamoru decided he could stay a little longer and retrieved his reading glasses from a pocket before striding over to her bookshelf.

When they had first met, they often read aloud to one another, Usagi because she needed practice yet, and Mamoru because Usagi liked to listen to his voice. As they aged, _The Boy who Drew Cats_, a famous Japanese folk tale, became a stumbling read of the classic _Heidi_ in English. Smiling softly, Mamoru picked a book at random and dusted the cover with a brisk pat before sitting down beside a beaming Usagi.

Flicking open _The Boy and the Samurai_ to the first chapter, he began: "The exact date I came into the world I do not know. It was in the spring, five years before the great Takeda Shingen, the ruler of the province of Kai, died. I seem to have…"

It was perhaps thirty pages into the story when he realised that her half-drowse had become a peaceful slumber. Marking the book and placing it on her beside table, he removed the pins from her buns and placed a soft kiss on her cheek before turning to go, leaving a tiny crack in the door so that the light from the hallway filtered in.

In her sleep, Usagi smiled, and Mamoru allowed himself to fix the image in his head before he left the doorway, nodding respectfully to Kenji and ruffling Shingo's hair before he exited the house.

For a moment, all that was heard in the living room was the sound of the weather forecast and Shingo's Sailor V game piping a quiet tune as he skilfully manipulated the buttons on his gameboy.

Shingo was the first to break the quasi-silence, watching Sailor V's tiny image making a triumphant 'V' sign with her hand as he entered in his high score. "So, when are they getting married?"

Kenji snorted softly. "When they get past the illusory platonic stage."

"What's that?"

"You'll understand when you're older, I'm sure."

Shingo sighed and switched off his gameboy. He got that a lot.

* * *

Ami gazed absently at her notes, her mind absently picking up the important points of the lecture as her hand scribed them onto the lined paper. However, the bluenette's mind was as far from the relevance of Japan's role in the First World War as Mercury was from Pluto – all her thoughts were firmly fixated on the revelations of the last forty-eight hours. 

Sailormoon was Princess Serenity.

Tsukino Usagi was Sailormoon.

The first revelation was something she knew from Minako's and her first conversation, and though that was a surprise, the second one had been even more staggering. When Luna and Artemis had returned from Central Control several hours after the bluenette and blonde had left Mamoru's apartment, Minako had reported the civilian identity Sailormoon passed under, which she had discerned during the aforementioned visit.

'_Sailormoon is Princess Serenity._'

It had been almost shockingly easy to think of Sailormoon as the Princess – after the initial shock at just how straightforward and simple it had been to locate her, that is. Sailormoon had yet been an unknown, and though Ami's affections for her were surprisingly strong, it was difficult to place a true face behind the domino mask and civilian glamour.

"_It isn't our senshi forms that are disguised,"_ Minako had said with a broad wink. _"We look little like our 'parents', really, save for colouring – your mother in this life shares a similar shade of blue eyes, for instance," _she had remarked casually to Ami, _"but the glamour supplies the rest of the world with an appearance in which you resemble your maternal grandmother. In your true form, your eyes are slanted, and your nose has a distinct saucy tilt. You favour the True Trickster, with your laughing gaze and cheeky nose."_

'_Tsukino Usagi is Sailormoon._'

_That _was harder to swallow. The ferocity with which the petite senshi battled was… Ami could not see any of Usagi-chan in the cold-eyed warrior who destroyed the Dark Kingdom youma with anything less than satisfaction of a job well done – a tiara well-thrown.

Then the bluenette witnessed a vision of Sailormoon's expression, full of fierce joy as she looked upon Tuxedo Kamen, and another flash of Usagi's ever-wondering gaze as she watched her best friend.

Ami remembered the almost savage-looking emotion on Sailormoon's face as she drew her tiara and embraced the magic, and compared it to the exhilarated flush on Usagi's as she ran on the track, much like her namesake, fleet of foot and sure-stepping.

How could she ever have missed it?

The same beauty, the same quiet strength, the same eyes… the _same hairstyle_!

Beautiful and graceful though they were, Sailormoon and Usagi bore only passing resemblance to the crystal-haired girl that had pulled the bluenette to her feet and bade her never to kneel to anyone merely for decorum.

Minako had explained that Serenity was the most protected of all in this life – she had been reborn into a family of once-Lunarians; the Tsukinos of Terra that had raised Gaia, Endymion's mother, so long ago.

'_A beautiful tale Artemis tells,_' Ami reflected idly, with some amusement at the image of the stern, one-time general being more of a yarnspinner than a gruff veteran. His sleep in Knowledge had surely gained him much wisdom and insight.

Adding another detail about the Russo-Japanese War and highlighting the subject title as 'important', Ami sighed and propped her head up with a hand, gaze turning wistful.

Minako, who shared the desk with her, directly behind the one Usagi usually sat at with Naru, elbowed Ami gently and smiled. She leaned over to write on a spare piece of discarded notepaper. _Are we going to sit with your group today?_ The blond inquired.

The bluenette couldn't help but smile. _They've all but adopted you after seeing you with Usagi-chan yesterday,_ she replied.

_It's good to see that her highness is so revered, even in this life, _and Ami was unable to discern if there was sarcasm in the black-inked words. She spared a moment to take another set of notes before replying.

_Serenity, Sailormoon and Usagi-chan have that in common. You do realise now that we're going to have to destroy this note? It's evidence!_

_Calm down, Ami-ko, did you honestly think I'd leave any loose ends tied up? _The golden-haired girl winked audaciously.

Ami muttered something to herself and sighed. _Sailormoon and Tuxedo Kamen were summoned last night – Artemis watched the fight, it turns out, and they were saved by a stranger bearing uncanny resemblance to –_

Realising that the teacher was approaching them with a frown on his face, Ami stopped writing and tried to hide the note under her desk when it was grabbed by Minako.

"Mina-chan, what are you _doin _–"

"_Crescent Beam_!" her friend interrupted, and there was a muted surge of light that vaporised the piece of paper. As they had chosen a back desk in the farthest corner of the classroom, no one noticed the sudden flash of heat.

It was only ten minutes later – safely ensconced in Geography – that Ami allowed herself to breathe a little easier at the near-miss. "I thought for a moment that we'd get detention!" she breathed, bending over a map of Japan and already inking in the various regions.

Minako chuckled softly, looking at the textbook for reference as her pen scratched busily away on several doodles. "I loved the look on his face when he saw you'd been taking notes all along and not just daydreaming."

"_I_ think it's lucky that he didn't bother to check _your _notes, Minako-chan," Ami chided under her breath as she rescued the textbook from defilation at the blonde's hands.

"Ah well… you were going to say something earlier? Or, rather, write something before I barbecued your efforts?" Sparkling cobalt winked at afternoon sky, and Ami blushed.

"Perhaps it should wait until later," the bluenette murmured, before her voice lowered further. "And… how did you do that? I thought we couldn't use our powers out of costume?"

"Ami-ko, think of it this way—" Minako drawled softly, and quieted as Kamome-sensei stalked by, "—does a costume change who we _are_?" Not waiting for an answer, the blonde ploughed onwards. "The fuku supplies us with the obvious: distraction, as well as freedom of movement and a tough, blessed material that will turn aside mortal blades and keep our bodies at a constant, comfortable temperature. The henshin itself makes it so that some of the glamour – which blocks your magical potential as well as your true appearance – is momentarily lowered."

"So… we didn't need the henshin before?" Ami flinched as the teacher's rod made a sort of _thwip-slam_ sound on his desk, jerking a daydreaming student two columns to the right of them out of his pleasant daze.

"Iie – and we will need one until we break free of this glamour. With training, however, you might be able to wear a tiny hole in the block through which you can draw upon the power of your respective deity and planet. I've been working at this ever since Artemis gave me my henshin wand; before, I had memories but no real power."

"So… with enough practice, I can take off the block?"

"If you had a thousand years to waste, perhaps," Minako answered, idly adding a pair of angel-wings to the heart she had just sketched.

Ami sighed in disappointment. "Demo –"

"Iie, Mercury-chan," Minako's grin was gentle. "Even now, my attacks are a tiny fraction of their potential – I might burn paper, set things alight, maybe even focus the energy enough to cut through a thin sheet of metal, but it is very, very subtle. I can draw on the energy to heal quicker, run faster, jump higher – you might be able to lower the temperatures in a certain radius, form a small ice crystal." The blonde chuckled slightly. "I'm working at the block now, actually – class time is convenient that way."

Ami's amusement turned to reproach. Though well-aware that Minako outranked her, she scolded her leader quietly, her hand fumbling for a highlighter to colour-code her notes. "Minako-chan –"

Minako's expression was what halted her – the blonde looked surprisingly grim. "Our powers can be our life or our death, Ami-chan – school and education is important to you, and I admire that. Demo… to me, I think of what would happen, and what good all the education and learning would do us when we are facing a youma. Learn your notes, ace your tests – but in the meantime, do not forget how to survive."

* * *

_She had been dreaming again._

_There was pain, though little fear and unhappiness with Endymion by her side. Her mouth opened silently to whisper into the bright chasm of Dream a vow._

Soon, _she promised, and allowed her eyes to slide shut as midnight blue eyes watched her carefully, a callused hand sweeping the hair back from her face. _I'm coming, koishii, _she repeated._

_His reply came, borne on a wave of quiet desperation. _Soon, _he begged, and Serenity smiled wistfully in her sleep as a warrior in red and blue bent worriedly over her, crystal gaze concerned. Taking Serenity's hand, Sailormoon blinked, and a smile graced pink lips as she brought fingers that were still and slender to them._

We promise, _she replied, and for a moment her eyes were not crystal blue, but dusky lavender. _It will be soon, my love.

* * *

She woke to feel large hands smoothing down the sheets about her body and smiled instinctively as she recognised Mamoru's touch. "What time is it, Mamo-chan?" she mumbled into the pillow before removing it from her face to blink owlishly at the sunlight. 

Mamoru looked chagrined. "Did I wake you up, Tenshiko?" he asked sheepishly, and Usagi reached up to place a kiss on his cheek before beginning to wrestle with the blankets.

"Hai – demo, it's about time. I've been snoozing on and off since breakfast," the blonde replied cheerfully, and Mamoru had to catch her as she tumbled herself out of bed in her attempt to dislodge the bedsheets. "Oops! Gomen ne!"

Mamoru had to laugh, and he set his friend right side up, unravelling the blankets from her tiny frame until they pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them. "Where is Ikuko-mama? Oh, and I put the sushi in the fridge for you. You better eat it soon before it spoils."

"Domo, Mamo-chan! And I don't know – I think she went to another meeting," Usagi mumbled, stumbling towards her closet and rummaging about. As she began to change, Mamoru turned from fiddling with the small abacus on her desk, blinked at the sight of her bare back and turned quickly away, a deep flush suffusing his features. Each had been relatively comfortable with the other in various stages of undress before, but ever since the rather harrowing encounter with Usagi's bra clasp…

Usagi turned around, grinning widely, and her face was confused as she witnessed her best friend's hunched shoulders and tense posture. "Anou… gomen," she apologised again, with a nervous giggle. "You can turn around now."

Mamoru obeyed and exhaled, feeling his cheeks heat up again. More to spare himself further embarrassment than anything else, Mamoru pulled out a large sheaf of notes on which Naru and Ami's writing could be discerned. "For the lessons you missed today," he explained, spreading them out on her desk. "English, Geography, History and Science –"

"Who took the science ones?" Usagi asked idly, now nosing about for hairpins. "Neither Ami-chan nor Naru-chan are in that class."

"Aino-san did," Mamoru answered distractedly. He seemed to realise at last that Usagi had no intention of studying after being cooped up all day with nothing better to do than catch the odd nap. An odd expression crossed his face and he steeled himself as he felt her wrap slender arms about his shoulders. '_Do not give in, do not give in, do not –_'

Usagi nuzzled his neck affectionately, and Mamoru's resolve melted instantly, the mantra now thistledown on the wind. "Just one quick go around the park, Tenshiko," he sighed, and was rewarded with a squeal of delight and an enthusiastic hug and kiss combination that left the dark-haired upperclassman disoriented as he found his best friend just about wrapped around his body.

After disentangling themselves (during which an amused Tsukino Shingo dropped in to chant obscene rhymes), they left the house hand in hand, Usagi tugging the taller boy along as she began a loping run, glad for the opportunity to stretch her legs.

"Slow down, Tenshiko," Mamoru winced as he felt at a stitch in his side. This was what he got for not stretching before being towed by the blonde, Japanese equivalent to the American Energizer Bunny down the thirty-minute walk to the park at breakneck pace. "Watch for cars, onegai," he begged as they narrowly missed being flattened by a cement-mixer truck.

"Oh ye of little faith, Mamo-chan," Usagi pouted playfully at him, eyes sparkling vivaciously they slowed to a brisk walk, she turning so that she walked backwards, still facing him. "Shall I slip and inform Coach Umidori that his star swimmer is out of shape?"

"Try that, Tenshiko, and I will… I will…" Mamoru trailed off and his steps became noticeably heavier as he began to sulk.

Usagi ruffled his hair and he tucked an arm about her waist to steer her out of the way of a telephone pole, pulling her protectively to his side as a flood of tourists streamed out of the double doors of a hotel they were passing. "Domo," she said, unfazed.

Mamoru merely grinned down at her and opened his mouth to reply when a loud shriek issued down the street. Amusement painted itself across the blonde's face as Mamoru flinched, taking several steps back so that he stood behind his friend in a clear – and decidedly pathetic – attempt to hide.

"Chiba-senpai!" a giddy call preceded the arrival of another blonde, her back-length curls bobbing as she dimpled prettily at a stoic-looking Mamoru. "Chiba-senpai, I was so worried when I didn't see you in Chemistry the other day! Oh, and I took notes for you!" In her exuberance to give him the worksheets and papers, they fluttered haphazardly to the ground and she let out a little yelp of dismay. "Oh, _shimat _– I mean –"

"It's okay, Aikousha-san," Mamoru said politely, bending to assist her. "I can do it mysel –"

"Oh, but I feel so _awful_ about it!" she winked at him and busied herself with patting the dirt off his trousers before straightening herself. "At least allow me to –"

"_Matte_!" It was Usagi's voice, and she sounded furious and angry and frightened. Mamoru's face went from expressionless to alarmed in less than a heartbeat; he did not even care to excuse himself from an indignant Aikousha as he sprinted towards where he had heard his best friend. She was chasing after a trio of boys carrying a heavily pregnant cat; the silver and white queen's yowl of distress added to Usagi's. "Leave her alone!" she called furiously.

Muttering darkly beneath his breath about foolish girls who thought they could right every wrong in the world, Mamoru nonetheless sprinted after her, his long stride favouring him as he neared the quartet of runners…

…and then the cat launched itself from the redhead's arms; one of his friends tripped, bringing the other two down with him, and a panicked streak of silver-grey bolted towards the empty road. Usagi, sparing only a cursory glance to her right as she ran after the cat, did not see how the lights had turned, and did not hear the hoarse yell torn from Mamoru's throat as he ran still faster. The blonde, catching the pregnant feline, finally turned, and Mamoru's vision greyed until he could only see the way her eyes widened ever-so-slightly and how she tripped as she attempted to stumble away from the truck's path –

– and tears of relief and lingering terror brightened the eighteen-year-old's eyes as a blur of tan leathers and pale arms dove, yanking the blonde's crumpled form in what looked to be a painful grip as they both tumbled out of harm's way.

Blinking hard, Mamoru realised he was almost there, and Usagi was thanking her rescuer enthusiastically, and – yes, there was that damnable cat purring contentedly in the younger girl's arms. Mamoru felt an irrational surge of anger at both the foolish animal and the foolish girl. '_May you burn in Bast's hell_,' he thought viciously at the oblivious feline, '_a pox on you, your kittens, and… and whatever kitty litter you'll be using in the near future._'

Usagi had turned around to see him – Mamoru could tell that she had almost forgotten how close she had been to… '_No_.' He looked about for something to distract him from the near-disaster and his eyes fell on the cat. He saw, much to his surprise, that she was not a tabby as he had first thought, but possessed a marbled coat of silver and grey, the patterns winding in a sinuous pattern of incomprehensible complexity. '_A Bengal!_' he blinked in surprise – there had been an article about them some months back… and _she_ called his name again, drawing his eyes and his attention.

Her gaze sparkled up at him as he drew near, and for the first time he was aware of how cold he still felt inside. "Mamo-chan! This is Kino Makoto, she goes to –" Usagi's words died on her tongue and the tall brunette let out an indignant yelp and ineffectual kick as the wild-eyed boy picked her up bodily. Makoto found herself two paces to the left of where she had been, and Usagi gasped as Mamoru's hands came up and she was held in an unshakeable grip of something stronger than iron, midnight fire burning into startled azure.

"_You _–" For a moment, Usagi almost thought her friend would actually shake her senseless; the grip on her shoulders was so tense. Mamoru searched her face for any indication she might have been truly hurt – her tumble must have looked rather nasty – and a strange-but-familiar expression flitted across his face. "Tenshiko…"

"Mamo-chan?" she asked tentatively. Mamoru blinked hard and his furious air melted into a confused one as he stammered. Neither teen noticed that 'Kino Makoto' had disappeared, nor that the cat was mewling for attention.

"You…" he exhaled and pulled her close; Usagi had only time enough for surprise to register as his mouth claimed hers roughly in a kiss that was warm, albeit clumsy.

Usagi's mind blanked. The kiss was a little wet, a little awkward, and their noses bumped as they attempted to accommodate one another, but then a large hand was tangled in her hair, tilting her head upwards even as her arms went about Mamoru's neck and the kiss gentled.

'_Mmmm, nice…_' she thought fuzzily, trembling helplessly as the heat _tingled_ and _oh_, but it was lovely_…_ Usagi pressed herself closer and felt one of his hands cup her face to angle it a little more comfortably. Mamoru was the source of the warmth, therefore getting closer to the source could only be good. Her mind rambled incoherently until she sensed Mamoru beginning to pull away. '_No!_'

They broke the kiss reluctantly, and blinked uncertainly at one another, her hands falling from his neck to rest familiarly on his forearms as his thumb stroked her cheek absently. Usagi licked her lips uncertainly, tasting a smooth, bitter texture that she knew was Mamo-chan. His pupils dilated visibly as he watched her, and Usagi tilted her head up for another kiss –

– and was promptly disappointed.

"I can_not_ believe this of you!" he roared suddenly, breaking all body contact and recoiling from her. Usagi would have been insulted had she not realised that she should have expected this. The blonde noted with smug interest that his expression was almost feverish; his eyes constantly flitting to her faintly-parted mouth and back to a fixed point somewhere six inches above her head. '_Men_,' she thought half-acidly, half-fondly as her voice rose to match his.

"Well _I_ cannot believe this of _you_!" she retorted shrilly, and Mamoru flinched. By now, a sizeable crowd had amassed, and the upperclassman was feeling a little more than mild irritation at several admiring glances being directed at the defiant blonde before him. They were male, and hopeful, and there was a half-growl rumbling in the dark-haired boy's chest already. Grabbing Usagi's wrist in a firm, but delicate grip, he mowed his way through the amused onlookers and stepped none-too-accidentally on a few of Usagi's admirers' toes.

Usagi had obviously seen his childish display of vindictive revenge, because he could feel her half-amused, half-annoyed gaze boring into the side of his head. "You can be so young in the head, Mamo-chan," she murmured, and he pretended not to hear. Instead, he launched into a new diatribe at her carelessness as the queen who had been the cause of the entire incident waddled briskly after them, occasionally brushing herself up against one of Mamoru's trouser legs and receiving several scathing glares for her trouble.

It was only when they stood on the porch, faces bronzed by sunset, that they lapsed into silence, all anger and fear fading with the day. Both tried not to show how they now understood the faint tingle that warmed them when the familiar act of holding hands became a subtle caress. At last Mamoru sighed and made as if to continue on – he was only half-surprised when small hands grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. He leaned down automatically and something stirred in him at the sight of her small face, long lashes sooty against pale cheeks as she touched her lips to his.

It was not so clumsy this time, and they remained entwined, like two vines on a trellis, for several long minutes before a shriek of boyish laughter filtered through the pleasant haze and they separated reluctantly. They watched one another with solemn eyes for a few more moments until Usagi turned to go into the house – Mamoru almost made as if to stop her, but stilled his hand before it could do more than twitch uncertainly.

When he saw her inside, he stayed until he could see the light of her window wink on, filtering through the foliage of the friendly oak growing near…

Something had changed, Mamoru knew, and only turned to go when he saw the silhouette of a petite girl outlined in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. He couldn't justify his actions beyond the pure terror and the way his chest clenched so painfully when he realised she was _alive_, and _well_…

Would he have kissed her, he wondered, almost forgetting to glower at the thrice-blasted cat as her purr shook his ankle, if what happened today had not happened? If she hadn't almost _died_, or if –

'_I don't know_,' he admitted, '_and I don't think so… demo, she was so warm…_'

Mamoru missed the dirty look the heavily pregnant Bengal queen shot him as he, lost in contemplations of the past and dreams of the future, trod carelessly on her tail. '_We will have to talk,_' he decided, _'later, and later… but she cannot tease me about never having been kissed now_.' He smiled a little, and his feet took him home as he lapsed into an uncharacteristic daydream, his head full of Tenshiko's smile and Tenshiko's touch.

* * *

She didn't know if the feeling in her was disappointment or relief, but concluded that it must be a little of both. 

Usagi turned from the window only when she could no longer see Mamoru's retreating form. She understood that denial was useless; things would be different now. Mamo-chan had loved her long before this, though she was now unsure whether that love was truly platonic, and he had often kissed her and protected to show his trust and his devotion.

She understood that; it was like how she often crept into his bed to cuddle and hug, his warm presence keeping the frequent nightmares of blood and shouting and screaming away even as she banished the demons that put the oft-present dark circles beneath his eyes.

She had always accepted that she loved him. She loved her Mama and Papa very much, too, and even bratty Shingo inspired the surge of sudden warmth in her breast. She loved her friends, and the people around her, and the sun and the moon and the earth beneath her feet. She just loved Chiba Mamoru – Mamo-chan – differently.

Usagi had a great many good friends that were boys – 'Toki, 'Numa and 'Yashi-kun were all such examples, but Mamo-chan was her _best_ friend. Ever. So why shouldn't she have felt differently about him?

_Life is not clear-cut that way,_ a phantom's caress, the thought was in her mind, and it was not Usagi's. _Emotions are what make us human…_

The blond started violently, and realised she was already wishing for Mamo-chan's reassuring hug. She shook her head, hearing her mother call her for supper, and undressed quickly, reaching for her new pyjama top and encountering worn material. She drew it reverently to her and inhaled roses and fresh topsoil, feeling tears well up. It was all so confusing! She should be matter-of-fact and accept that their relationship would be different. If only she knew if it was a good different or a bad different…

'_Nothing can ever be bad,_' she told her self fiercely as she donned the old t-shirt, nose still buried in the baggy folds; it was large even for Mamoru, and fell almost past her knees. '_Not with Mamo-chan…_'

She was only talking herself in circles, now. She would enjoy his kisses, and she would _know_ if and when she loved him, and perhaps she would know if he loved her _that _way…

For the first time, Usagi examined her appearance critically. She was too skinny though over-endowed for her age. She was short, and her eyes were at times too limpid and at others too bright. Her hair was long and easily-tangled, and her legs were long enough that it was difficult to find jeans or trousers down to her ankles.

And this was what would impress him! Mamo-chan, who had never really liked any of the gorgeous girlfriends in his short attempts at dating… he had found them all lacking, and they were his age and did not chatter as she, Usagi did.

_He never gave _them_ nicknames_, the voice whispered again. _He never tucked them into bed and kissed them and…_

Usagi's expression firmed and she laughed at her own absurdity. What was she _doing_? This was Mamo-chan! Mamo-chan would not kiss her if he did not at least feel attraction or think her pretty, and if he only did it because he was frightened for her, then he would have told her so and not kissed her back like he had only minutes before.

She laughed and put her hair in a long braid, finally answering her mother's summons and exiting the room with a spring in her step. They would have to talk, and soon, but for now she would dream of the 'good different'.

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**A/N: _The Boy and the Samurai _is by Erik C. Haugaard, _Heidi _is by Johanna Spyri and _The Boy who Drew Cats _is a Japanese folk tale, as mentioned above.**

**Also, Arashinobara now has a livejournal account with daily chapter progress updates, previews and spoilers, all clearly labelled. Our username is _arashinokakyoku_, but if you click on 'homepage' in our Fanfiction userprofile, then you'll find us just as easily that way. Add us, watch us, adding would be fun – we like friends! But there's how you can monitor our… activities. /winks/

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_**Glossary**_

**_Queen_ – no, I'm not talking about the Neo-Queen or Selenity… x.x;;. It's a common name for a female cat.**

**_Bengal_ – a peculiarly-patterned breed of cat, relatively new and still very rare at this point; they've got marbled or _spotted_ coats, and resemble little leopards. In fact, they were created by breeding the Asian Leopard Cat with an American or British Short-hair. I find them pretty mainly for their patterns, but it's a little disconcerting seeing a cat-sized snow leopard or tiger stalking about your house, ne? If you want to find out about them, go to google and type in 'Bengal', or to google images to do the same.

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**Now, REVIEW! Remember, goal of two-ninety… we gave you romance, you give us reviews… /winks/.**

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